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TPIE CORAL lADY 

OR 

THE BEONZED BEAUTY OF PARIS 


A STRANGE LIFE NARRATIVE OW.OVK, BETRAYAL, 
CRIME, AND FRIGHTFUL- REVENGE. 


BfiiNe The Twee History Op The Lovely And Mysteriotts Bronzed LalDY 
Op Paris, Who, Coming From No One Knew Where, Took Up Her 
Abode In The City Op Paris, Just Previous To The Opening Op 
The Great Exposition, And Who Disappeared Just As 
Mysteriously Immediately After It Closed. 

BY MRS.* SOUTIIWORTH. 

1 / 

WHO HAD SEVERAL INTERVIEWS WITH THIS SINGULAR WOMAN WHILE IN FABIg. 















€ 




PHILADELPHIA, 

C. W, ALEXANDER, PUBLISH^. 

224 South Third Street. 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1867, by C. W. ALEXANDER, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court in and for the Eastern District of 

Pennsylvania. 






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C. W. ALEXANDER: Rublisheu: 

224 South Third Street: Philadelphia; Pa. 


•. ^ . 




THE CORAL LADY. 


HOW MRS. SOUTHWORTH BECAME ACQUAINTED 
WITH THE CORAL LADY. 


It was during her visit to Paris in 1867 that Mrs. Southworth the au- 
thoress of the following narrative became acquainted with the Celebrated 
Coral Lady; or as the Parisians called her “ The Bronzed Beauty, ” 
It happened in a most singular and romantic manner as the reader will 
perceive upon reading the account, Mrs. Southworth gives in her own 
felicitous stjde. 

On the afternoon previous to the opening of the great Exposition at Pa- 
ris, Mrs. Southworth and two personal friends who had accompanied her 
to France from this country, were passing a pleasant hour in the Champs 
Elysees. They were sitting on a bench facing the Avenue de Neuilly, 
and watching the throngs of splendid equipages that streamed past inces- 
santly with their gay and merry occupants. 

Suddenly a commotion took place, and scarcely had our friends begun 
to conjecture its cause, when a carriage drove past, which as well as 
its inmate, excited the astonishment and admiration of every spectator. 

The horses were of a splendid glossy black color, and so fiery as to re- 
quire all the strength and skill of their driver to control them. The 
carriage, a light open affair, was painted and trimmed throughout of an 
ebony black, but was brilliantly relieved by lines and prickings of red; the 
design of which was strings of red Coral. Not only the running gear, 
but even the very harness was ornamented in this strange yet handsome 
manner. The liveries of the Coachman and footman, both of whom were 
19 


20 


THE CORAL LADY. 


negroes, were in keeping with the rest of the turnout, tljc braiding and 
also the buttons being of tine scarlet silk in imitation of red Coral. 

The great centre of attraction though, was the occupant of the carriage 
--a young lady of about twenty five years of age. Startlingly and rav- 
ishingly lovely, the stranger was at once the cynosure of all eyes. Yet 
she seemed utterly indilferent, and took no notice whatever of anything 
or any person. Her features were Grecian in their regularity, while her 
complexion was of a peculiar bronzed hue, which being lit up by her 
large, lustrous black eyes, added a fascination to her beauty that was 
irresistable. 

The dress of this singular young Lady was in unison with the style 
of her whole turnout, though no one looked at it who did not remark 
how modest and pretty it was. But we will let Mrs. South worth de- 
scribe it. She writes: 

Her head dress consisted of a simple piece of jet-black velvet, orna- 
mented with rows of bright red coral. Her dress was of the same ma- 
terial; ornamented in the same manner. One fact struck me with great 
force, and that was, that while all the French beauties made the most 
prodigal and in many cases the most vulgar exposure of their shoulders 
and arms, this lovely creature, though possessed of the most superb bust 
and figure I ever beheld, wore her rich velvet dress cut high in the neck, 
and the sleeves close at the wrists. Both the neck and wrists were en- 
circled with a necklace and bracelets of the same bright coral; while strings 
of coral also twined among the luxuriant tresses of her hair. Her hair 
she wore waving with artistic negligence down on her shoulders, and its 
raven, satin-shining blackness was rendered more conspicuous by the 
coral which was arranged with the greatest taste. 

"What a strange woman! What a superb and lovely young creature I 
Who can she be? Where can she have come from?” were but a few of 
the exclamations that were uttered by the gay promenaders all round me 
a^ the brilliant equipage whirled away down the avenue. 

Just at this moment one of the officers of the Elysees chancing to walk 
up, I said to him : 

" Can you give me any information, sir, as to who that beautiful lady 
is who has created all this excitement?” 

"Ah, Madame, he replied,” she is a wonder and a mystery even to 
our gay city of Paris. This is the third day she has appeared driving in 
the Elysees, and always exactly as you have beheld her, both as regards 
her own dress and the style of her equipage. 

" And does no one know who she is ? ’ 

"No Madame, she is a perfect mystery!” Who she is; where she 
came from; and whither she is going; none can tell. The frequenters here 
call her ^ La Dame au CoraiV or as you would in English say: The 
Coral Lady.'^ 


THE CORAL LADY 


21 


I turned to one of my companions to make some remark, when she 
almost interrupted me by saying : 

“Now my dear, there you have a subject for something far better than 
the best romance you ever wrote.” 

“1 believe you ; indeed I do;” answered I, struck forcibly with the 
suggestion. 

“ You may depend on it, that lady has a peculiar history, which it 
would be worth your while obtaining.” 

“And which I will obtain,” laughed I, “if it be at all possible.” 

At this moment a French lady with her daughter, who had left their 
carriage for a little stroll, came up, and spoke to my friend, Mrs. Leslie, 
who thereupon introduced us to each other. I was full of thoughts about 
the Coral Lady, and, immediately after exchanging the proper courtesies 
with Madame Tassard and her daughter, I alluded to her. 

“My dear Mrs. Southworth,” replied Madame Tassard. “She is the 
most singular, and I should say the most supremely disagreeable person- 
age that has ever afflicted Paris with her presence. Would you credit it; 
she not only makes no visits in Society; but she actually refuses to re- 
ceive any visitors; no matter how fashionable, or exhalted, or aristocratic 
they may be.” 

“Oh, yes,” minced one of the daughters, twiddling her fan nffectedly,” 
she is — ah — perfectly horrid, as Americans beautifully remark.” 

We held our conversation in French, and I could scarcely refrain from 
laughing outright at Mademoiselles idea of the beautiful in American 
language. 

“I would be delighted to speak with this singular and lovely being,” 
said I. 

“Why would 3^011 indeed?” lisped the other Miss Tassard; “M'ell, I am 
sure I wish you better fortune than Mama had. But do not allow 3'our 
feelings to be lacerated by any rude rebuff 3mu may receive, should you 
attempt to have an audience with the Lad\' of the Coral.” 

Itinswered Miss Tassard that I would consider upon her advice, and 
after some further conversation, we all returned to our carriages for a 
filial drive previous to returning to our hotels. 

Nothing could I get into 1113" mind now but thoughts and conjectures 
concerning the eccentric and beautiful creature, who had set fashionable 
Paris by the ears with mystery and wonder, and I was forming all sorts 
of plans and plots to obtain an introduction, when suddenly the same 
commotion as before occured again. 

“Here she comes again ! Here is the Coral Lady once more !” was 
uttered bv" several voices. 

I turned and glanced backup the Avenue and beheld the Black and 
Coral equipage coming dashing down after us at a rapid rate. I ordered 
our Coachman to rein aside a little and allow the stranger to goby, that I 
might have another look at the Coral Lady. 


22 


THE CORAL LADY. 


At a short distance above us the approaching carriage was suddenly 
and dexterously brought to a stop, in order, apparently that the Coral Lady 
might enjoy the scene around, for she at once threw off her former apathy 
and began looking around in such good earnest that Madame Tassard and 
her daughter would certainly have denominated it perfectly horrid. The 
stranger it is true resembled more a person who was looking eagerly for 
some one rather than merely noticing scenery. 

Presently as we all were watching her, her footman approached us and 
handed me a small plain card on which was written in English: '‘Will the 
American Lady with the Carls permit an interview for a moment 
with Eloise De LauneyV^ 

1 never recollect being so thoroughly astounded and yet so pleased 
before in my entire life, and what exact reply I sent I can not even 
now call to mind. All I know is that against all rules of fashion I actu- 
ally walked across to where the Coral Lady sat. She rose with a most 
gracious smile, and extending her hand, exclaimed : 

“Ah, my dear madame, you do me far too much honor. I dreamed 
not of such. I only hoped to have you assent to an interview, and receiv- 
ing an affirmative, I would have come to you.” 

“Really Miss,” replied I, to be candid wdth you, I was wishing very 
earnestly for an opportunity of making your acquaintance.” I called her 
Miss as she was so youthful. 

“Were you indeed I” laughed the eccentrict woman,” “well, well, and I 
conceived such an overweaning curiosity to know you personall}" that I 
could no longer resist the inclination to send you my card. But pray be 
seated, and let us be at ease.” 

There was a positive fascination about the strangely lovely creature 
that increased its power over me each succeeding second. 1 was enrap- 
tured with her beauty, her navaite, and modesty. 

As we sat there we became the centre of attraction; all the strollers 
gazing at us with all the eyes they had — to use a common expression. 
This did not disturb the equanimity of my companion in the slightest de- 
gree, who the moment we were seated, re-opened tho conversation with 
the remark : 

“Well now, after informing you that the name on the card you received 
Eloise De Launey belongs to me, may I inquire your own name? I know 
you are from America. ” 

I told her my name; and she exhibted much surprise, exclaiming : 

“Why are you Mrs. South worth ?” Strange Strange indeed. Yet 
in America, the name of Southworth has become a household 
word. The mention of it alters my intention ; it thrills, me 
with new emotions and fixes in my mind a resolution that for some* 
time past has been floating, through my brain somewhere like a dim 
cloud or shadow. But I cannot tell you now, oh no! not now. My heart 


THE CORAL LADY. 


23 


flutters like a wounded bird. Let us change the subject. What beauti- 
ful leaves this tree has. I have heard that the species flourishes only in 
Arabia. Arabia must be a lovely country 1 Nearly every land have I 
traveled in save Arabia.” 

“You seem quite familiar, with languages, Miss De Launey said I, 
as in astonishment I heard her finish her remarks in English after having 
used both French and Italian. “I am eager to know what clime you are a 
native of.” 

“And you shall know ; but not to day my dear Friend. What day do 
you use for visiting ? Or do you not have any particular day therefor ?” 

“None especially set apart for visiting.” 

“Then will you come and see me to morrow at noon. You have my 
address. Come by Yourself. I am counted very eccentric. I visit no 
one nor do I receive any visits from any one. But I have taken such a 
fancy to you that I have thus made an exception to my rule. In the 
midst of fashion and the turmoil of life I am nothing but a recluse, a 
hermit. 

“I see that you, as well as others, look upon me as a mystery — my 
bronzed face, my mode of dressing — excite your most intense curiosity.” 

I acknowledged that she was correct, and she resumed : 

“You must come and see me tomorrow at noon as I have asked you to 
do and you shall have my history or at least part of it.” 

“It must be a strange one,” remarked 1. 

“You will say so more earnestl}^ than now when you hear it. But I 
have overstayed my time from home. Adieu, and Heaven’s goodangel be 
with you till we meet again. Remember, tomorrow at noon, and alone. 
Adieu.” 

Thus speaking the lovely, mysterious girl — for in appearance at least 
she was such — gave my hand a warm squeeze, sprang lightly into her 
carriage, which almost instantly whirled away down the Avenue, leaving 
me wrapt up more completely than ever in wonder and amazement 

I rejoined the group of my friends who instead of driving to their hotels 
bad all dismounted again and were anxiously awaiting me,, expecting 
doubtless that I would have some interminable and rich piece of gossip to 
impart to them concerning the Coral Lady. Their anxiety, however, was 
turned only into disappointment when I told the extent and nature of 
my interview, excepting the invitation to visit Eloise, which I did not 
mention for fear it might require me to deny the instant and importunate 
applications, I knew would have been thrust at me to take a friend with me. 


24 


THE CORAL LADY? 


THE FIRST INTERVIEW. 

Kind Reader, you doubtless know wbat suspense is. If you are a lady 
you have perhaps experienced that peculiar sensation which takes posses- 
sion of young ladies generally, when it only lacks a day of the pic-nic, or 
party, or ball to which your affianced lover is to accompany j^ou in your 
new yet incomplete relation. If you are of the genus homo, reverse the 
comparison. Ho you know \Vhat it is ? If so, triple it, and you may have 
a faint idea of the intense suspense that held possession of me from the 
moment I parted with the mysterious Coral Lady, in the Champs Elysees 
till I stood at the portal of her house or hotel as Parisians say, in the 
Rue Richelieu. 

She occupied the whole building the rent of which must have been 
many thousands of francs on account of its locality and size. This proved 
her to be of enormous wealth; for very very few, even of the first families 
of Paris can afford the luxury of a whole house in a fashionable quarter 
to themselves. 

As the ancient bell of Notre Dame toiled forth the hour of noon ray 
suspense began to diminish or rather it had reached its acme, for i was 
punctual, and at that time stood before Eloise He Laune^-’s door await- 
ing admittance where no other visitor had as yet been permitted. ‘ 

The dark visaged footman, dressed in the self same uniform as he 
wore on the Coach, opened to me and on taking my card, instead of asking 
me into a waiting cabinet or room he led me after him with the remark: 

“Will Madame, please follow. Such are my orders.-’ 

Along the hall, and up a flight of stairs to the second story I went in 
obedience to this request uttered so politely, and presently my guide ap- 
proached a door covered with black velvet on which w^ore symbolistic 
characters marked in strings of blood-red Coral. 

“Will Madame, please to enter when I open the door, and if my mis- 
tress the “Lady of the Coral” be engaged in devotion do not disturb her, 
but await what she rna}’- say. p]nter quickly.” 

As he said this the footman pulled a lever in the door jam, the door 
• opened suddenly, I stepped quickly in as I had been asked to do, and like 
a flash the portal was again closed by the ebony servant. 

I stood in the private apartment of the strangest, most mysterious wo- 
man that had ever been heard of, and Romance indeed ^Yas beginning 
to flap her fairy wing over my senses. 


‘'The only hope tlmt keeps me alive,’ said she, sadly, ‘is, that some day I ma}^ yet find my darling child! 
my Eloisel’’ 






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THE CORAL LADY. 


27 


If by some magical transporting power I had been taken by the hand, 
and lifted from the cold and uninviting scenery of a Northern land, and 
placed in an instant after in the midst of some glowing luxuriant clime of 
the Oriental Tropics, my astonishment could not have been half as great 
as when I stepped thus from gay, dashing, frivolous Paris, into this 
apartment, where all the Barbaric Splendors of Eastern Countries dazzled 
my eyes, and the unknown but delicious perfumes, distilled from sacred 
gums and spices made my senses grow dim with their exquisite odors, 
and held me spell bound as though a million of fairies had each quivering 
nerve a captive. 

Nor was music wanting to complete the etherial scene around me ; for, 
beside the warblings of birds in gilded cages — whose notes were entirely 
strange to my ears^^ — there came floating to me as though far away from 
some dream realm, dulcet strains of combined vocal and instrumental 
music. 

‘Ts this magic V whispered I to myself almost trembling with the new 
sensations my situation inspired within me. I saw no one in the im- 
mense room or rather saloon, which instead of being lighted in the usual 
manner (for the reader will remember it was noonday) was illuminated 
by candelabras, at regular intervals along the walls, and in which Candela- 
bras burned candles of perfumed wax. 

The walls were draped and hung with rich coral and black velvet and 
silk hangings, while interspersed among the festoons with the utmost 
elegance of taste, were ornaments of alabaster, onyx, bronze ; and richly 
enameled paintings. Looking along the apartment I was bewildered with 
the almost numberless varieties, and beauty of the furniture, though one 
peculiarity struck me with much force which was that among all this 
gorgeous furnishing there was not a single chair visible. Divans and Ot- 
tomans and cushions and rugs all of such magnificent material and luxu- 
rious apparance as to almost defy comparison, much less imitation. 
There were also many tables of strange and handsome material but of a 
style such as is only used in the Far East. 

The screens of which I have spoken were at once the mosf splendid 
specimens of art that I have ever beheld. Some were of silk, others of 
satin and velvet ; all embroidered in the superbest manner, and mounted 
upon antique and odd-shaped frames, that moved in any direction at the 
slightest touch. 

Another peculiarity I noted was that the floor instead of being carpeted 
was covered with beautiful rugs in which the feet sank deeply at every 
step. 

Keader, do not imagine that, because I have been somewhat long and 
prosey in my description of the Salon of the Coral Lady, I was long in 
seeing its details and beauties and singularities, for my eyes drank in all 


28 


THE CORAL LADY« 


at a few glances. You may imagine however, if you can, how intense 
became my curiosity, to behold the eccentric and lovely mistress of this 
magnilicence, and to listen to her life history from her own lips. 

After the first startle of the scene had left me, I became composed, and 
stepped leisurely forward, scanning everything to the right and left as 1 
proceeded. I had not gone far, however, when from behind a screen came 
two beautiful young women dressed in the peculiar costume worn by the 
highest classes in the Islands of Java and Sumatra. Their complexion 
was of exactly the same shining bronze shade as that of their mistress. 

Making a low obesiance after the custom of their country the two ad- 
vanced again, and each took one of my hands. By them I was then led 
four or five yards further on to a spot where several screens were so ar- 
ranged as to form a complete room of good size. At the entrance my 
houri guides left me, after doing obesiance to their mistress, . the Coral 
Lady who was the sole occupant of the artificial apartment. 

She was attired in a loose, graceful robe of black velvet embroidered in 
a weird manner with Coral beads and Coral colored silk. She had noth- 
ing on her head ; but her raven, shining tresses floating down back over 
her shoulders were adorned with a tasteful looping of Coral beads. Ko 
jewelry of any description was worn by her excepting a large single dia- 
mond of the utmost brilliancy clasped in a hand cut from red Coral, which 
caught her robe at the throat. The moment she saw me, Eloise sprang 
from the Ottoman on which she had been reclining, and taking me by 
both hands, seateA me on a second ottoman close against hors, and had 
my shawl, bonnet, etc. removed and laid away on a Divan, almosiin a mo- 
ment or two. 

Before describing the greeting I received, however, I must speak of 
the Contents of this private apartment of the Coral Lady. Three or four 
divans and ottomans were in it in place of chairs. In one corner was a 
couch covered with Leopard and Tiger skins which formed a strong and 
striking contrast to the snowy white sheets and pillow cases, which, 
strangely enough, were of plain Avhite linen, and without the slightest or- 
namentation. On one table was a heap of books, on another a work- 
basket, while a third was taken up with an inlaid, finely wrought sandal- 
wood desk; and yet a fourth served as a rest for two cages, each of 
which contained several beautiful birds. This scene was completed by 
the mistress herself, who hod evidently been playing upon a sort of lute ; 
such as is used in Persia and llindostan, and w’hich in the skilled hands 
of the natives of those lands, produces the most exquisite and affecting 
music of any stringed instrument in existance. 

I have said completed ; but I neglected to mention that on the divan 
on whieh laid the lute, was also an open box containing a pair of silver 
mounted Revolving Pistols, which I saw were loaded by the copper caps 
being on the nipples. ‘ 


THE CORAL LADY 


29 


I must confess that the sight of these deadly weapons gave me for a 
moment a disagreable chill, and caused some of my romantic sensations 
to he replaced with such pleasant surmises as “suppose this woman is a 
lunatic and has brought me hither to kill me; or suppose she is a wicked 
woman and has some foul designs on me.” But when I looked into the 
face of Eloise I saw that she was neither a crazy nor a wicked woman ; 
so 1 forced myself to feel more comfortable. And she had not spolien a 
dozen words ere all my faintest apprehensions vanished; as the mist of a 
September morning vanishes before the genial warm of tha early glowing 
sun. . 

For half an hour my lovely and eccentric companion conversed only 
on general topics; and I was beginning to be apprehensive that I should 
get none of the personal history she had promised and for which I was 
so eagerly longing, when suddenly she commenced it of her own accord 
as follows* 


EARLY LIFE OF ELOISE. 

“You asked me yesterday, my dear Friend, of what country I was a 
native, and I told you, I think, you would be surprised, and I know you 
will when I inform you that I am an American ; that I am what you call 
there a Creole, being a full descendant of the De Launey family, which 
perhaps you are aware was one of the wealthiest and most aristocratic of 
the original French families of Louisiana. 

“That does in truth surprise me much,” I remarked, “for though the 
fluency of your language might prove you an American, your complexion 
would indicate other than Creole parentage. 

“Entirely correct, my dear Friend. Yfet that only shows the fallacy of 
judging from appearances. But you shall learn of that in the course of 
my narrative. 

“As I have said, my family occupied an enviable position in Society in 
Louisiana, though we were • best known in New Orleans where we re- 
sided during the Winter. During the Summer we lived on a beautiful 
paradise of a spot, seven miles from Greensburg and near the New Or- 
leans and Jackson Rail Road. 

“Immediatedly adjoining our rural villa was an extensive plantation 
owned by an old gentleman named Darnelle, who had but one child, a 
son named Herbert. Being thus neighbors we soon became friends. 
Herbert and myself being almost of the same age and of opposite tempe- 
raments, rapidly kindled within each other’s breast sentiments of affec- 
tion, which additional time intensified into a burning fervid love. 


30 


THE CORAL LADY, 


"We used to ride, fish, walk, and read together; together we used to 
visit the quarters of the slaves and look after their comfort; and together 
we used to sit for hours building fairy castles in the thin air of the future. 
How happy I was in those sunny days language could never depict nor 
imagination paint. 

"Alas I however, there came a cloud, chilling our atmosphere and hid- 
ing the sunlight. Herbert’s father, though well aware from the first of 
his son’s affection for me and of my love for him, suddenly determined 
that Herbert should wed the daughter of a gentleman in New 
Orleans, whose name as a Banker has since become world-wide in prom- 
inence, The only reason Mr. Darnelle vouchsafed to give his son was, 
that he desired the proposed Union to be consummated for the purpose of 
bringing his family and that of the Banker into marital as well as business 
connections. In vain did Herbert plead that be did not then, nor could 
he ever, love the young lady, although he could respect her as a friend. 
Mr. Harnelle was inexorable, though he did finally consent to allow a 
year to elapse ere the consummation of the marriage. 

"The next time we met after his father’s decision had been thus made, 
both Herbert and I were cast down with sorrow, and many a plan did we 
discuss for getting around the difficulty. But none could we hit upon and 
we finally parted with the determination to quietly await the course of 
events ; and we repeated the vows we had before made to each other of 
mutual and everlasting love and devotion. 

"Come what will,” said Herbert, as he kissed me good by, "come what 
will, I shall never marry that woman; not that I dislike her; she is good, she 
is handsome, and I know that she would be delighted to become my wife; 
but my heart, dearest Eloise, is your own and no other woman shall ever 
possess it. 

"My surcharged feelings prevented the utterance of any audible reply 
to this sweet declaration of Herbert’s, and I could only show my grate- 
ful love in looks, and in one burning kiss that 1 imprinted on his lips. 
Oh ; my dear Friend, I loved that man from that moment forward with 
the madness of despair. 

"We did not meet each other quite so often after this as previously; but 
with each new meeting and parting our love seemed to born into brighter 
fiercer flame than ever. In one fell moment we agreed to be each other’s 
without the sacred sanction of the wedlock bond. For to have done so 
would have swept Herbert’s inheritance from him and he would have be- 
come a penniless outcast. And besides he had solemnly promised never 
to marry the Banker’s daughter, and with equal solemnity did he promise 
to be as true to me as though a hundred marriage certificates bound us. 

"Ten months of happiness unalloyed, followed, and then came an event 
which materially altered the future. This was the sudden demise of 
Herbert’s father, caused by apoplexy, There was no will made, for Mr. 








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'‘You come to take mv darling 
am ; and alone ! I defy you 


child to him I But, woman as I 



THE CORAL LADY. 


33 


Darnelle had purposely abstained from executing one until he should see 
Herbert safely married to the young lady he had chosen for him, when 
it had been his intention to bestow all his worldly possessions on his son, 
and daughter-in-law. 

‘•Of course this sad event — sad in one way, but propitious in another — 
relieved Herbert from further obligations, and he became master of his 
own alFairs. His first act was to break olf all further connection with the 
banker’s family, giving as a reason that he had for a length of time al- 
ready been married to myself. Here was the second wrong step. But 
Herbert speedily quieted my anxiety on the subject, by arguing that our 
intimacy had been so watched and so well known, that to have a public 
marriage now would be a certain blasting of my reputation and conse- 
quently a disastrous sullying of his own name. 

“This was sufficient, for no matter how my name might suffer, I loved 
Herbert too dearly to jeopardize his reputation and I readily consented to 
his proposition to go to New Orleans with him. There we took hand- 
some apartments, first at the St. Charles Hotel, and afterwards in the 
upper part of the city. 

“Shortly after this I became the mother of a sweet little girl, whom 
Herbert called after me, Eloise. 

“Oh, my dear Friend, between then and now what a frightful, fright- 
ful sea of unhappiness and dispair has rolled itself, a sea. whose ever 
disturbed billows are alv.^ays lashing themselves upon myhea.rt and making it 
bleaker and more desolate each advancing year. 

“Up to the time that little Eloise was two years old there was no 
change in Herbert’s manner toward me. He was. ever loving and all 
that I could wish. But about this time, however, I w’as quick to notice 
that there was an alteration in him, and my heart began to misgive me. 
I strove, oh, so hard, so earnestly, to drive from me the suspicion that 
his love for me was beginning to wane. Herbert is a man of his word ; 
his word is better than most others’ bonds, and he has solemnly pledged 
his word and his sacred honor to be true to me. I could not would not 
believe otherwise. And yet continually in the daytime while I carressed 
and gamboled with Eloise ; and even with Herbert’s arm around me and 
his eyes looking into mine, there would arise before me that new, gaunt sha- 
dow like a cloudy ill-omened spectre out of the ground. In the stilly 
hours of the night, too, with my darling babe nestling upon my bosom I 
often awakened to find the same spectre, intangible yet always there. la 
Seemed to say : ... 

“ ‘Herbert is tired of 37-011 1 ’ 

“At this time I had a young and handsome German girl as a sort of 
wimpanion. Stie was from Berlin whore she had received a polished 
education. She had emigrated to America two years previousl}’, where 
having the misfortune to lose her mother by 3’^ellowfever, she was left in 
2 


u 


THE CORAL LADY. 


reduced circumstances. By chance I came across her about that period 
and from me she at once accepted the position of nurse-governess to little 
Eloise. Very soon a strong and enduring friendship grew up between 
her and myself. She was so good and kind that I could not tell who 
loved her most, I or Eloise. 

‘‘One day she came in, apparently in much mental trouble, though she 
evidently made strenuous efforts to conceal it from me. Something im- 
pressed me that it was caused on my account, rather than her own, and, 
with a sickening dread, but also an unalterable determination, I forced 
her to tell me the cause. 

“ ‘I cannot tell you, Madame,’ said she ‘for I may possible be mistaken, 
and at best my statement would make you exceedingly unhappy.’ 

“ ‘Oh, Lena Lena I’ I exclaimed, ‘I think I know what you would say. 
But though I dread to hear; yet I must know all. You would speak of 
Mr. Darnelle and and some lady. Is it not so ? ” 

“Lena nodded her head I A dagger driven through my heart would not 
have stricken me down so instantaneously as did this silent but terrible 
affirmative of Lena’s to my question. I sank upon a sofa and burst into 
an uncontrolable fit of weeping agony. 

“ ‘Oh, dearest Herbert I my own, do not cast me off thus from you for 
another I I can die in this world ; in the next if necessary ; but to lose 

you thus Oh, God! I cannot! I cannot! No! no! Here, on my 

bended knees, I implore you ! I invoke you by the halcyon hours of the 
past ! I conjure you b}’- the same word of honor that you have so often 
pledged to me, not to thus cast me from you !’ 

“ I had sprung from the sofa and found myself kneeling before a Por- 
trait of Herbert, my hands clasped and my face wet with scalding tears. 
Lena was bending over me endeavoring to comfort me with well ment 
but useless words of consolation, while little Eloise with her dear tiny 
arms round my neck, was ciying and covering my cheek with kisses, 

“I could not subdue the paroxysm of grief that had taken possession of 
me though my pride was wounded by allowing myself to be seen by 
Lena kneeling thus before Herbert’s portrait. Not for at least an hour 
did I become calm enough to consider the matter coolly. But when I 
did, I began to feel anger and revenge rising within me, especially to- 
ward her who had thus destroyed my peace and happiness forever. 

“‘Oh, Lena!” said I at last, ‘if I could only find out the rights and 
particulars of this affair !’ 

“ ‘Tell me, only tell me, how I can be of assistance to you, Madame 
replied Lena, ‘and I will do the utmost in my power to serve you.’ 

“‘Well, Lena, I know I can trust you. Now then go, and watch one or 
the other, or both, and bring me some positive imformation on which I 
may act myself Here is money in thisporte-monaie ; do not spare it if 
necessary to the accomplishment of your object. Remember you are 


THE CORAL LADY. 35 

aiding a much injured woman, and one who knows how to reward faith- 
fulness.^ 

“ ‘Do not speak of reward, Mrs. Darnelle, I beg of you, do not speak 
of reward to me,’ said Lena. ‘I obey you because I love you, and I am 
sorry for you; not because of any reward I might earn, fori would scorn 
to do for money what I would cheerfully do for a good cause.’ 

“ ‘I know that, Lena, I know it. I ment nothing by my remark. But 
I am nearly beside myself. Go now, there’s a dear, good girl ; go and 
make my suspense as short as possible!’ 

“ Taking Eloise up in my arms, I went to my bed room to await Lena’s 
return ; and during the succeeding two hours no tongue can tell what 
agony of mind I suffered. 


A VISIT FROM HERBERT. 

About this time, as I was pacing the room, the sound of footsteps at- 
tracted my attention, and a moment afterwards Herbert Darnelle stood 
before me. By a superhuman effort I crushed down both my sorrow and 
my anger, and greeted him as usual, for there was now a plot in my 
mind, and it became necessary for me to dissemble. Yet he did not fail 
to perceive that something unusual had occured, and he said: 

“ ‘Why Eloise, what is the matter with you ?’ 

“I longed to fling my arms about him, and tell him all, and endeavor 
to win him back. But my pride would not permit that, and I merely re- 
plied in a casual way : 

“ ‘Oh nothing much ; only a sick headache and— — ’ 

“ I intended to add ‘heartache,’ but I caught the word back before it 
fell from my tongue, and turning away from him, I took up Eloise. She 
was my only remaining joy. 

“A pause ensued of several moments’ and then, as Herbert seated him- 
aelf not beside me as he used to do, however — he said : 

“ ‘Well, it causes you to be considerably cross and ill-natured. Do 
you know you are much altered of late in your manner towards me, 
Eloise V 

“ ‘Am I?’ said I, ‘that, may be, is true; and have I not good cause?’ 

“ ‘What do you mean by that?’ he inquired. 

“ ‘You know as well as I can tell you 1’ I answered. ‘Here, only a 
while ago, this very day, you were in company with some woman.’ 

“ ‘Well, bless my soul 1’ he exclaimed, in a tone of anger, that I m- 
atantly saw was assumed for the occasion, ‘cannot I be seen with a 


36 


THE CORAL LADY. 


lady on the street without being taken to task by you. I want you to 
understand, that what I may do, or not do, is no business of yours !’ 

“ ‘Possibly I’ was all 1 said. 

“‘No!’ he exclaimed, ‘there is no possibly about it!’ 

“I said no more, but sat rocking Eloise and crying. At last Herbert 
got up, and began drawing on his gloves slowly as though he had come 
upon a disagreabie errand and did not like to broach the subject till lie 
should be ready to go. His gloves on, he took up his hat, and coming 
near to me, kissed Eloise very friendly but did not kiss me. Then as he 
stood up he said : 

“ ‘Eloise, I am going up to the plantation and shall not be back for a 
week or so. You will not be lonesome while I am away.’ 

“‘I would like you to answer me truly, one question,’ said I, looking up 
at him. 

“ ‘Well, what is it ?’ 

“ ‘Are you going alone to the plantation ?’ 

“ ‘That is none of your business ; but, since you have asked it, I might 
as well tell you that I shall not go alone.’ 

“ ‘And, perhaps, added I, sarcastically, ‘since you are so exceedingly 
candid, you will also acknowledge that the lady you have already been 
seen with to day is the same one that is to bear you company up to the 
plantation.’ 

“ ‘That is exactl}^ so,’ he rejoined ‘why you must be a wizardess !’ 

“ ‘There was such a callousness in his tones — though it was assumed — 
and the change altogether was so unexpected and sudden — that I was 
as it were, dumbfounded. But I speedily began to comprehend all, and, 
between struggling love, pride and anguish, 1 felt as though my heart 
would break. But I instantly resolved on my course. 

“ ‘Herbert,’ said I ‘I see through it all. You have seen another woman, 
you like better than me. I am now an incubus, that you would gladly be 
rid of. Ah, Herbert! Herbert! had a prophet ever told me that this day 
was to have dawned upon me I would not have believed him. Not four 
years ago, one lovely Summer evening, as you and I kneeled together 
beneath the blooming Orange tree at home, I pledged my heart, my love 
to you, and you pledged your solemn honor to me. In the presence of 
Hod’s Angels we promised to be true to each other forever ! Eorever ! 
that was the word. To day you come to me, and deliberately tell me you 
have broken your word of honor. You ! who would call out a man and 
shoot him down for even questioning your honor, you bring the sullied 
fragments of it to me and cast them at my feet!’ 

“ ‘Herbert Darnelle, though no human eye witnessed our secret, nuptials; 
and though I hold not the written Certificate so justly prized by every 
virtuous woman, I am, in the sight of God, your true and virtuous wife. 
I said to you; ‘Herbert, I will be your own from now till Death parts us. 


THE CORAL LADY. 


3t 

You said ; the same to me. To day you cast me off for another! So be 
it! You break your word of honor like a dastard craven; I shall keep 
mine, if I live a hundred years. Your honor and my poor, trusting 
heart are now broken. Oh, Herbert! for God’s sake leave me now, 
and go to your new found love ! Do not torture me any longer with 
your presence but leave me! And warn that woman, always to avoid 
mo; or I will have her heart's blood!’ 

“ ‘ Why, Eloise,’ said he, is you who are making our parting so 
sudden and unfriendly. I desired that it should be gradual and as 
friendly as possible. I shall provide amply for your comfort, you know, 
besides relieneing you of the unnecessary burden of Eloise.’ 

‘ This fired the mine of fury within me. I sprang up, bounded to 
my desk, and taking therefrom a poignard whose handle was of fine 
red coral, I exclaimed : 

“You would add damnable insult to damnable injury! But mark 
me, 1 am a Creole! and the moment you attempt to take my child 
from me, my love will turn to hate ; and this dagger’s blade shall be- 
come as red as its handle, not only in your paramour’s blood, but al- 
so in your own! Nor do I want your money. I have enough to rear 
Eloise in honest poverty, and be assured if she is spared to me I shall 
teach her never to trust her reputation in the keeping of such word 
of honor as her father’s ! So, now farewell — Oh God ! that^I must say 
it to you, Herbert — farewell forever P 

“I sank back on a chair, still "pressing Eloise close to me. After re- 
maining a few moments, as though undecided what to do, Herbert sud- 
denly strode out of the room. 

“This world is dark and dreary to me now!’ I moaned to myself, as I 
saw him whom I so indolized,thus leave me with the avowed intention of 
taking up withthat woman. And then hour after hour I walked back and 
forth, back and forth in my room passing before my mind’s eye the delight- 
ful scenes of the past that were to return never more, never more. 

“Thus was I occupied when Lena came back. 

“ ‘He has been here, Lena,’ said I. 

“‘Yes Ma’am, I know it,’ was her answer. I saw him come in, I saw 
him come out, I followed him, and saw him join that lady.^ — whose name 
is Ann Rivel — in Ijispenard Street. I then followed them so closely and 
so cautiously, that! beard much of their conversation, and yet did not at- 
tract their attention to myself. Oh, Ma’am, that’s a vile hussey, if ever 
there was ono in this world ! Prom what I could hoar I should guess Mr. 
Danielle intendsto sell his plantation, and then goon a European, tour with 
Annilivel. Before they start he is going to steal little Eloise away from 
you and take her to Europe, too. 

“‘He said something about you going on like a wild woman, and 
threatening to kill somebody, and they both laughed at that. Oh, I as- 


88 


THE CORAL LADY. 


sure you, Mrs. DarneJle, I felt so furious angry at them for talking so, 
that I could have cowhided them both with a very good will. And I 
think they both ought to be ashamed of themselves. But they are not, 
and jve shall have to take good care of darling little Eloise, or they will 
steal her away.’ 

“ ‘My dear" friend,’ concluded the narrator, I cannot trust myself to 
continue this history to day. My feelings when I think of my poor child 
master me. I pray you let us change the subject. Tomorrow I will re- 
sume where I leave off to day. Shall I play for you ?” 

I sympathizingly expressed my regret at the inability of my lovely 
companion to finish her narrative, and gladly would I listen to her play- 
ing. She took up the lute, or guzla, as the Persians call it, and after 
tuning it, she sang a wild, thrilling melody in some unknown tongue — 
the most touchingly mournful strains I ever listened to. 

“ ‘That,’ said she when she had finished, is the song that mothers sing 
in Sumatra when they have lost their children. It is pretty, and I am 
very fond of it. She sang two or three other melodies, all partaking of 
the mournful character of the first, and then suddenly putting away the 
guzla she sounded a small silver gong with two strokes, which was 
promptly answered by one of the young woman who had met me. 

Eloise spoke to her a few words in a language I did not understand, 
and then as the maiden disappeared she resumed her conversation with 
me, speaking of the Exposition and the efforts of the competing nations to 
surpass each other. I found her marvelously well informed on almost 
every subject of'science and the mechanical arts, and there was such a 
genial freedom and suavity about her conversation, that I felt as little re-^ 
straintin her presence — notwithstanding all her mysterious surroundings — 
as though she had been my own sister. 

Suddenly, and without the slightest warning, one of the screens that 
formed the room was moved noiselessly back, disclosing a second artifi- 
cial room formed by other screens, and containing a table on which in 
golden dishes were served up many different kinds of fruit and preserves 
with bread ; while on a kind of side table stood several bottles of wine 
with golden cups instead of glasses. 

“You must dine with me,” said my hostess, taking my hand and plac- 
ing me on an ottoman that was drawn up to the table. 

I never made a more delicious meal in my life ; for such fruits and pre- 
serves it has never been my fortune to come across. During the course 
of the repast Eloise informed me that she never ate anything at all ex- 
cept fVuits, preserves, and bread, and never drank anything save wine 
and water. 

It was dark ere I bade my strange friend adieu, and I found her carri- 
age at the door ready to take me to my hotel. I promi.sed to come the 
next day at noon, and thus ended my first interview with Eloise De 
Launey. 


THE CORAL LADY. 


39 


THE SECOND INTERVIEW*. 

It was late in the night before I could get to sleep on account of think- 
ing overthe interview I had had with the strange Lady of the Coral; and 
also of the coming one the next day. My slumber also, though not dis- 
turbed by, was filled with, dreams of Eloise. I did not loiter in the morn- 
ing, but was promptly at the door of Eloise by twelve o’clock. The 
footman had nothing to say on this occasion ; but bowing low, at once 
preceded me to the Salon of his Mistress who received me even more 
pleasantly than yesterday. We had a general conversation for a short* 
time and then suddenly, the same as the day previous, Eloise resumed 
her life narrative. 

T broke off yesterday,’ said she, at the point where Lena followed 
Herbert and Ann Rivel. She had traced them to the St. Charles Hotel, 
and having inquired in the office had found out the numbers of their 
rooms, which were the same ones exactly as I had once occupied. Thus, 
bitter and more bitter became the wormwood in the cup that 111 Fortune 
was holding to my lips. I felt that this indeed was the retribution at- 
tending the dreadful error I had made in submitting to Herbert’s desires 
and the promptings of my own love for him. 

“ H will take my darling Child’ said I to myself, ‘go away from here, 
far away, where she nor I will never see nor hear of her father, and 
spend the future in redeeming the past,’ 

“The next day I went out for the purpose of engaging rooms ; but 
apartments chancing just then to be very scarce, I did not succeed in 
procuring any, and by evening I returned home utterly worn out with 
fatigue. Lena had kept faithfully by Eloise during the whole time I had 
been out. On hearing of ray non-success, Lena suggested that a lady, 
whom 1 knew, had been speaking of an acquaintance of hers who was de- 
sirious of letting a part of her house to a person of unquestionable res- 
pectability. I was too tired to go myself, so I sent Lena with a message 
to the lady in regard to the matter. 

“Little Eloise was exceedingly glad to see me return home, and she 
and I spent several hours in play. It lightened my own sad heart to thus 
make pleasure for my Child. Time passed away, and it began to get late. 
Still Lena did not come, and I commenced to feel much anxiety about her. 
Yet, thinking she must have been detained, I sat down and rocked 
Eloise to sleep. 

“How long it was before I myself fell asleep; or how long I slumbered 
when I did, it would be quite impossible for me to say ; but I was arous- 
ed by somebody turning a key in the lock of my door— which latter I had 


40 


THE CORAL LALY. 


secured immediately after Lena’s departure. I knew that if it were Lena, 
she would knock and then call me by name. And there was no one else 
who had any right or occasion to enter my room, Suddenly the convic- 
tion flashed upon me that it was Herl)ert came to force me to give him 
our child. The idea of Herbert coming like a robber to do me a violence 
so startled and non-plussed me that I was unable even to raise my head 
off my arm ; but sat helplessly watching when the door, which I had been 
so careful to lock, should open. 

“I had not long to wait; for almost immediately the handle was turned 

and the door being pushed back, there came in not Herbert Dar- 

nelle, but three tall, powerful looking men each of them masked. In a 
moment my fear left me, and rising, 1 said : 

‘‘ ‘Gentlemen, you have certainly mistaken the apartment. So I will 
I)e obliged to 3mu if ^mu will retire.’ 

“ ‘Oh, no, Mrs. Harnelle, there’s no mistake, nor can we retire. How’s 
little Eloise ?’ 

“The fury and strength of a lioness took possession of me, while at the 
same instant Eloise, awakened by the strange, rough voices, clung to me 
and began to cry piteously. 

“‘There, there, my darling’ said I, ‘hush; no one shall hurt you,’ and 
catching the child up, I pressed her trembling little form to 1113^ own 
throbbing bosom. The men looked at each other and then nodding, I 
supposed by way of a concerted signal, all began to approach me. But 
like a flash of lightning I sprang behind the table, and drawing my poig- 
iiardj which was a large one, I exclaimed ; 

“ ‘Brutes ! 1 know you errand. You come from Herbert Harnelle to 
take this child to him ! But you shall not do it! No! by Heaven, woman 
as I am, and alone, I def3" 3^00, one and all !’ 

“ ‘Don’t go on so tragically, Mrs. Harnelle !’ answered he who appear- 
ed to be the leader of the other two ; because we would be sorrv to do 
you any harm ; but we must have that child, though we are not going to 
take it to Herbert Harnelle.’ 

“ ‘Help ! help! murder!’ I screamed as loudly as I could, still keeping 
my poignard raised with the determination of driving it into the heart of 
the first who should come near enough. But, as the sequel proved, though 
armed thus formidably, I was no match for my athletic foes. Almost in 
a moment a heavy cloak was thrown over me, and Eloise and I were 
borne carefully but irresistibly to the floor. Then I was disarmed by one 
while another held his hand over m3^ mouth, and the third, unclasping nu’’ 
poor weak arm from about Eloise took her from me, and immediately 
stifled her cries and sobs. 

“‘Quick! give me Uie sponge!’ I heard the man say who was holding 
me down. The next moment I felt the excessively coldness of a 
sponge of chloroform upon my lip, and then, even while I became aware 
of the fact, I sank into insensibility. 









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THE CORAL LADY, 


43 


“ When this terrible enthrallment was lifted from my senses, so like 
death, I found myself, not in the luxuriantly furnished apartment from 
which I had despatched Lena on her errand ; but in a low-ceilinged, 
small, meanly appointed room, the walls of which were damp and mouldy, 
while all round the joint of wall and ceiling were dark, heavy cob-webs, 
that seemed to have required years to attain their present enormous size. 

'‘It was broad day-light. One old wooden chair, a rickety table and 
two of my own trunks formed the only furniture of the place, the floor 
even, not having a scrap of carpet upon it. 

“I could not describe my feelings as I looked around upon this desolate 
cheerless room and its contents, I was so utterly bewildered. Qradually, 
however, I began to gather my scattered senses, and then my situation 
burst upon me like a dreadful avalanche. For myself I cared not, but my 
agony became unendurable when I comprehended fully that little Eloise, 
my darling child, my future guiding star, was really gone. I called her, 
but there came not the answer of her sweet voice. Alas I no I I was not 
only deserted like a common outcast of society, but also robbed of my pre- 
cious treasure by Herbert I Herbert, whom I had loved so dearly I Her. 
bert, who had so often pressed me to his heart and told me that nothing 
but Death should ever part us ; who had vowed upon his sacred honor 
that harm should never come to me, or my good name. 

" ‘There’s a letter!’ I exclaimed, as I rose up and saw an envelope up- 
on the table. Quickly tearing it open, I read the contents. The letter 
was from Herbert. He wrote that the ruffians had come from him, that 
he had Eloise and would love her for my sake, that he had become infat- 
uated with Ann Rivel, felt driven to his fate, expressed great sorrow 
that this cloud should have arisen, hoped that I would learn to forget him, 
and finally as he could not bear the idea of my ever coming to want, he 
enclosed me a check for ten thousand dollars, which he hoped would be 
satisfactory. In a Postscript he added the advice not to attempt to find 
him as he would by this time be on his way to a foreign land where he 
intended to spend at least several years. 

“I sat down on the chair, and then on the floor, for half an hour at 
least, twiddling the note, and the check, and the envelope, like a person 
struck with idiotcy. He had not explained why I had been removed from 
my apartment to this hovel of a room, nor why he had given me only 
two trunks, W'hile my dresses and other little matters alone would have 
filled at least six such trunks, and yet he had given a check for so large 
a sum as ten thousand dollars. Then the idea suggested itself to me to 
look what was in the trunks. This I quickly did, and found nothing in 
them save a few of my second best dresses and shawls, two bonnets and 
two pairs of gaiters. I scarcely knew what to think about this. First 
I thought, perhaps Lena had been induced to join against me, and had 
received my best clotlies and some money as a reward. But I dismissed 


44 


THE CORAL LADY 


that idea instantly from my mind; 1 could not think of her true honest 
face and credit such a thing. There was but one other conclusion — Ann 
Kivel, the vile u-surper of my place in Herbert Darnelle’s heart, had also 
taken all my valuable clothes and jewels for herself. In that moment the 
Devil took possession of me, and with a cold, bitter laugh, I* searched for 
my Coral handled poignard. But that also was gone. 

“Then I went down on my knees and vowed to have vengeance on 
both Herbert and his paramour; and to pursue them if necessary to the 
ends of the earth and rescue my little Eloise from them. So, putting on 
the best of the dresses, one of the bonnets, and a shawl, I went to the 
room door. It was not locked. I opened it, and stepped out into the 
dingy little entry, went down the dir'y stairs to a kind of kitchen, where 
I found an old negress, who refused to tell me anything except that 
Massa Darnelle had told her not to say one word to me. 

“I left the hut, and walking up the road some distance, I met a slave 
driving a light wagon. Of him I inquired the way, and found that I was 
about five miles from New Orleans. He was going three njiles further 
on I asked him to let me get up and ride with him as far as he should 
go. He seemed very much astonished ; but, nevertheless, made’ no ob- 
jection. At the end of his journey I gave him a gold dollar, which doubt- 
less seemed like a fortune to him, and Avhich, I have as little doubt, ma- 
terially, improved his opinion of me. The other two miles I walked to 
the City. The first place I went to was the bank on which the check 
was drawn, and where I obtained the money without any trouble. 

“Now, then, my task of vengeance was to begin. Before doing any- 
thing, however, I determined to find Lena.’’ 

At this point in her narrative Eloise rested, and we dined together in 
the same manner as we had done the previous day. During our repast 
general subjects occupied our conversation, nor did she resume her his- 
tory until fully half an hour after the end of our dinner. 


ELOISE IN PURSUIT. 

“I was not long in ascertaining'the whereabouts of Lena, and w^hen I 
found her she had almost as strange and thrilling an account of adven- 
tures to tell as I had myself. Shortly after she had left the house on the 
errand I had sent her to do, she was accosted by three men who called 
her by name and asked her where she was going to. She gave them a 
sharp answ^er, w’hen they instantly seized her,thrustagaginto her mouth, 
and hurried down a dark street close by. Here there was a carriage 
waiting, into which Lena was lifted by two of the men, while the other, 
mounting the driver’s seat, lashed the horses in a gallop. 


THE CORAL LADY. 


45 


“As they drove along one of the men informed Lena that no harm was 
intended her ; that they only ment to take her to Herbert Darnelie, who 
having taken his daughter Eloise away from her mother, and knowing 
that she was very fond of her (Lena) desired to make sure of still retain- 
ing her as nurse-governess to little Eloise. After driving some distance 
the carriage was turned into a yard belonging to a kind of hotel or tavern. 
By the light of the moon, which was just beginning to rise, Lena noticed 
a countryman who was saddling a horse. Something impressed her to ap- 
peal to him to rescue her from her captors, w'ho she did not believe came 
from Herbert Darnelie, for this reason. They had said that Herbert al- 
ready had taken Eloise, and she knew that the child was safely with me 
when she left home so shortly before her own capture. 

“Lena was a brave, prompt girl, and no sooner had she conceived the 
project than she put it in execution. Watching her opportunity, she 
sprang away from her captors, and running to the man — relieving herself 
of the gag as she ran — she hastily told him her tale of wme. She was 
closely pursued by the three men, who seized her and were dragging her 
back again, when the stranger stepped forward and in a stern voice ordered 
them to stop. 

“‘Knife himP cried one of the ruffians; and immediately there was a 
fierce combat between them and their intended victim. The latter, how- 
ever, though light built, was an active and powerful man, and laid about 
him with his loaded whip with such address and strength, as to beat off 
his assailants. — Suddenly one of them made a shrill call on a whistle. 

“‘Quick !’ cried the rescuer to Lena, ‘run to my horse !’ 

Lena did so, and her friend following her vaulted into the stirups caught 
her up on his lap, and bidding her hold him tight round the neck, dashed 
away before the ruffians recovered from their surprise. But in a few 
minutes more the latter were also mounted and in pursuit. Fortunately 
after a furious ride, the rescuer met a squad of mounted policemen. Two 
of these brought Lena back to the city, and the others with her rescuer 
gave chase to the ruffians who, however, easily escaped, and were doubt- 
less the same men who immediately afterward came and took Eloise 
away from me. 

‘•I then told Lena all that had occurred to myself, and also informed her 
of my intentions. Instead, however, of wishing to leave me, she expres.s- 
ed the determination to stay with me till death. She was now in my 
dark hour of adversity the only friend I had; and I at once accepted 
her offer, feeling that she would be of the most material assistance to 

me, for she loved little Eloise sincerely. 

‘‘The first step was to find a trace of' Herbert and his paramour which 
I speedily did at a small cost by employing a regular detective officer. 
The morning after the nigiit on which 1 had been robbed of my child, 
Herbert taking her and Ann ilivel had sailed for Paris in a steamer. 
It is almost needless to add that the next steamer leaving New Or- 
leans for Paris took out Lena and myself. 


46 


THE CORAL LADY. 


CHASED DOWN AT LAST. 

“By contrary winds and stormy weather our vessel was delayed a full 
week beyond the time she should have arrived at her destination, and 
we had considerable difficulty in obtaining our next clue to Herbert 
and his paramour. Our perseverance was finally rewarded, however, 
by learning that they had gone to Italy. To Italy we also immedi- 
ately started, where again the old difficulty recurred of getting a trace 
of my intended prey. 

“It would be far too tedious a task to detail to you the almost 
numberless routes we took, and places we went to, and the disap- 
pointments we suffered in our pursuit. The fugitives were invariably 
from five days to two weeks in advance of us, and they travelled by 
such irregular routes,* that half our time was consumed when we got 
into a town in finding oi^t the way they had taken. 

“But notwithstanding all this my determination never wavered for a 
single instant. Lena was equally enthusiatic, and finally we tracked 
Herbert and his wife — that was what he styled the vile wretch, Ann 
Kivel — to that notorious den of European fashion and vice, Baden Bad- 
en. We -were only a few hours behind them now, for which I fer- 
vently thanked Heaven; as the large outlays I had been constantly- 
making since the commencement of my journey had made heavy in- 
roads on my purse. 

“Hitherto I was constantly in a fever to get within reach of the guilty 
pair that I might take instant vengeance upon them. But now that I 
nearly had my hands on them I suddenly became cautions. I thought of 
my darling Eloise, and this brought on new trains of thought more 
rational. If I could only steal her away from thorn I argued with myself 
and let them both go their ways, I obtain my priceless treasure and shall 
be contented and happy for the rest of my days ; whereas, if I were even 
to kill them both she would be left entirely alone in the world, without 
even the shadow of a protector. So I quickly changed my plan. 

“I still had three thousand dollars left, and I proposed, after obtaining 
possession of my child to set out at once upon my return to America^ 
thereto settle down in some obscure town and live only for Eloise. I soon 
found out — or rather Lena found out — the exact hotel at which Herbert 
had taken apartments, and I promptly secured apartments in another 
hotel a square or two below it. 


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O 


THE CORAL LADY. 


49 


On the sec< n 1 afternoon after I had taken these apartments — one of 
which fronted on the main street or promenade of the city — I was lying 
down very sick with a semi-nervous attack, caused no doubt by the sudden 
increase of the exciting circumstances by which I was surrounded. All 
at once Lena called me to come to the window; that Ann Rivel was pass- 
ing by. Headache and nervousness, were gone in an instant, and spring- 
ing up, I bounded to the window. 

‘Don’t let her see you, Mrs. Darnelle !’ exclaimed Lena, pressing me 
back with her uprai.sed arm, ‘she is looking up here now and making 
motions.’ 

Thus admonished, I drew the curtain quickly before my face and glanc- 
ing cautiously out, I beheld my hated, wicked rival walking up to her 
hotel leaning on tlie arm — not of Herbert as I had expected — but of a tall 
man, dressed in the extreme of fashion; evidently a professional gambler, 
and just as evidently a villain of the worst description. But the strangest 
and really startling fact was that both Were looking up at the hotel I vvas 
putting up at, talking very earnestly, and now and then pointing over. 1 
thought I had succeeded in reaching Baden Baden without my arrival 
becoming known at least to Herbert and his paramour. But I now began 
to feel somewhat uneasy, for I at once came to the conclusion that that 
woman was talking about me. Her face was beautiful; a real blonde with 
splendid hair of that indescribable light color that seems a combination of 
pure gold and flaxen. Yet that lovely countenance was stamped with the 
impress of the Evil One himself. Cruelty, cunning, passion and every 
bad inclination was written on each lineament. 

“ ‘Mrs. Darnelle,’ said Lena, ‘I will go and watch these wretches. They 
have found out you are here, and I would wager my existence that Ann 
Kivel is plotting some mischief against you. That’s not Mr. Darnelle 
though.’ 

“Lena was gone on her errand ere I could oppose her. She returned 
in about half an hour; and informed me that just before the two had reach- 
ed their hotel they had separated. Indistinctly she heard Ann say some- 
thing about the right time not come yet, that Herbert miist be attended 
to by herself, and then the officers sent on th*e wrong scent. Thus they 
parted, and then the man, after a short walk, turned back and came di- 
rectly to the hotel we occupied. Hel’e he entered into conversation with 
several attaches of the house; and was evidently making inquiries of them 
concerning some one. 

“ ‘There’s some wickedne.ss abrewing, Mrs. Darnelle, you may depend.’ 
concluded Lena. 

“I agreed with Lena on this point, and also on another, namely, that 
it would be advisable to change our quarters as .soon as practicable. This 

3 


50 


THE CORAL LADY. 


was done on the following day, though in making the change I took care 
to still keep near enough for my purpose, to Herbert’s hotel. 

“*As you are perhaps aware, Baden Baden is the great gambling hell of 
Europe; and as the necessity of the case demanded it; I of course visited 
the most fashionable Rouge etNoirpalace in the place, though so disguised 
that no one would have known me at all. 

“One night as I promenaded the Saloon, a man entered suddenly, in ap- 
parent excitement. It was Herbert Darnelle! I could not describe my 
emotion at the sight of that man, whom I had so idolized ; but who had 
torn my arms from about him and cast me off like a withered, worthless 
thing; and all for a woman who did not, could not love him as I had 
done. Instinctively I followed him as he strode to the gaming table He 
threw down a gold piece; there was no one at hand to make a game with 
him, and with a gay but hollow laugh he challenged me, little dreaming 
who he spoke to. I know not why I did so, but I instantly accepted the 
challenge and covered his gold piece. On and on went the game with 
varying success, each of us becoming more intensely interested. Finally 
my fortune continued in one uninterrupted good channel until I had won 
over twenty thousand dollars from him. At this stage of the play his 
face began to look wild and haggard, and throwing down his last Louis 
d’or, he exclaimed: 

“ ‘You must be the demon disguised I There is my last piece. Make 
your game I’ 

“ It is made; said I coldly as I won, and took the golden coin. Have 
you nothing else to stake?’ 

“‘No! terrible charmer, nothing but my honor 

“ ‘Which is valuless 1’ I exclaimed interrupting him. 

“ ‘And my daughter ’ he concluded, laughing. 

“ ‘Against whom, said I, in an excited voice I will shake every piece 
of the twenty thousand I have won from you. Come, sir, will you ? If so, 
make your game !’ 

“My breath came quick and short, and unconsciously I grasped his arm. 
He seemed suddenly to become equally excited by my proposition, and 
replied, in bated tones: 

“ ‘And if you win, will you swear to rear her properly — for she is very 
young, and very dear to me ? Her mother was the only woman I ever 
truly loved. In a fell moment, like a craven I cast her off for another 
who has deceived me constantly, who has ruined me I You look good. 
Swear this to me, and I play the precious stake.’ 

“ ‘I swear I’ answered I, like some one in a dream. 

“The game was made 1 won. I forgot myself and cried out : 

“ ‘Bring me my darling I my little Eloise I’ 

“‘What! exclaimed Herbert, you know her name? Ah who are 

you ? You are ’ 

“ ‘Eloise De Launeyl’ I exclaimed, removing my disguise. ‘Here I 


THE CORAL LADY. 


51 


claim my child 1 ,I have won her fairly; and God knows the weary, 
weary leagues I have come to rescue my darling ! Where is she ? Take 
back your gold I I wish it not; but Eloise I must and will have !’ 

“Herbert started back like one appalled by some frightful apparition, 
his eyes distended and his month wide open. 

“‘You ! Eloise !’ was all he said, and that too in a low choking voice. 

“No time had I to reply, for at this moment between Herbert and me 
stepped Ann Rivel and the strange man whom I had seen walking with 
her. The next instant I was feeling for my poignard,but the officers about 
the saloon hurried Herbert and Ann, together with the strange man, out 
while they detained me arguing with me and endeavoring to appease my 
rage. They gathered my money — which I had won from Herbert — all 
up and made it into convenient rolls for me and then gave it to me and 
advised me to go home. All this was done in the coollest and most polite 
manner; for these men were accustomed to such scenes, and even far 
more tragic ones, every day. 

“Presently I became calmer and reasoning with myself, I resolved to 
take the money back to Herbert, return it to him and appeal to his former 
love for me to give me back our child. With this resolution I returned to 
my hotel where I found Lena awaiting me and wondering anxiously why 
X remained so long absent. As Lena w'as continually of so great assis- 
tance to me, and so faithful, I invariably made it a rule to impart to her 
everything that occurred. So I detailed the events that had transpired 
just as fully as — in fact more so — than I have to yourself, ^y excite- 
ment was so intense that during the course of the night I was taken 
suddenly and alarmingly ill, requiring the instant aid of a physician. 

“Nearly a -week elapsed before I was able to gp out. The first visit 
made, however, was to the hotel at which Herbert put up. I carried the 
money I won from him back, but what was my dismay to ascertain that 
Herbert and Ann Rivel had been gone from the hotel — no one knew 
whither. I now felt like a mariner, who after obtaining a glimpse of the 
pole star through a stormy sky, suddenly loses sight of it just when he 
most requires its light. 


A TRAGEDY AND ITS PLOT. 

“I had scarcely returned to my hotel when a knock came to my door. 
Lena was not there and I opened it myself. Two officers at once enter- 
ed, asked me my name, hearing which they produced a warrant of arrest 
for the murder of Herbert Danielle. 

“‘Lena! Lenal’ called I. 


52 


THE CORAL LADY. 


“‘She is also under arrest, Madame.’ said the officer. 

‘“I was perfectly astounded ; struck down as by a clap of thunder from 
a serene sky. I knew that it would be only wasting time to talk to the 
officers or ask any explanation or information of them. And therefore 1 
only requested them to allow me a few minutes to arrange some little 
matters about my apartments. This they acceded to with much delicate 
politeness, and when I had finished I accompanied them to prison. Had 
my misfortune been less I would doubtless have suffered more keenly 
than I did; but it was so enormous, that at first, at least, it mercifully 
crushed my feeling. Yet this was only for awhile; for, as my mind began 
to recover from the shock, and to comprehend fully the appalling position 
in which T stood, my anguish and apprehension burst their bonds, like an 
accummulated torrent finally breaks through its dam, and sweeps resist- 
lessly over the smiling fields beyond, utterly desolating them. 

“ I did not remain many days in prison, before I was arraigned and 
put on trial for my life. By permission of the Court I was allowed an 
advocate to conduct my defense. 

“The first witness examined was a peasant or wood chopper. He Stated 
that one evening — giving the date — he and a fellow laborer had been on 
their way home from work and that as they passed through a certain 
clump of trees close by a ruined cottage — which cottage had not been oc- 
cupied for many years as it was said to be haunted — they saw by the 
light of the setting sun the body of a gentleman lyingdead on the ground, 
with a red-coral handled dagger driven into his heart. And that a piece 
of paper with two lines of writing on it was fastened to his breast by the 
blade passing directly through it. Neither he nor his comrade could 
make out the writing as it was made with characters they could not un- 
derstand. 

“On discovering the corpse they had immediately run back to where 
they could find two other friends who had been working with them and 
got them to return to the spot with them. Then all four had gone to a 
magistrate and told of the discovery. Officers were at once despatched 
with the men to investigate the murder; and found everything just as 
had been narrated. The body had then been carried into the ruined cot- 
tage and laid upon a rough wooden bench. Throwing the dead man’s 
mantle over his body they had all left until the next morning when they 
had again returned with the Burghmaster or Coroner. The only sign of 
life they found was a large beautiful black bird that, perched on the win- 
dow sill, was singing cheerily. 

“The murdered: man was removed to the police office; where the dagger 
was drawn out of his heart and marked, together with the piece of paper 
on which was written in the English language the words — 

Still Incomplete ! Now then for her! 

“The next witnesses called successively were the peasant’s three com- 


THE CORAL LADY 


53 


panions who fully corroborated his statements. Then followed the ma- 
gistrate and Coroner. This closed the first stage of the testimony. The 
next step in the prosecution was to connect me with the commission of 
the hideous crime. For this purpose two witnesses were called; the first 
of whom was Lena Graef. Poor girl : as she came in, her face was ashy 
pale, and when she saw me she burst into tears and shook her bead. 
Very reluctantly, in reply to questions put to her, she gave the following 
evidence. 

“That she had acknowledged when first arrested herself, and while as 
she explained, under much excitement, that I, her mistress ; had come 
from America to Europe with the express purpose of taking vengeance on 
Herbert Darnelle and Ann Rivel ; also for the purpo.se of taking away 
from them my child, Eloise. W'hen shown the slip of paper, taken from 
the body, she could not but admit that the writing was exactly like mine; 
though she did not believe I wrote it. Also that she recollected having 
seen the identical red-coral handled dagger in my possession in New Or- 
leans, before we sailed for Europe — though she had heard me remark 
that I had lost it. She was then shown the slip of paper a second time 
and recognized it as being the same kind of paper that I always’ used, 
which was corroborated by an officer producing several quires from my 
desk, and comparing them with the slip. But, announced the prosecu- 
tion, they would now produce the main witness, who would complete 
the links in the terrible chain that connected me with the murder. The 
witness was called ; and who should it be but Ann Rivel! leaning on the 
arm of the tall, villainous man I had seen with her twice before. She 
feigned to be overwhelmed with grief, and was dressed in the deepest 
mourning. 

“She testified that 1 had on a certain evening, in company with Dr. 
Lisle — so she called the villain who escorted her — visited a gambling sa- 
loon where she found, that, having been playing with me, Mr. Darnelle 
had lost his last coin ; that he was in despair, and had it not been for her 
timely arrival, he would have committed suicide in the saloon That she 
bad persuaded him to come home with her, and the Doctor, and that af- 
ter arriving there, he had confessed to her privately, that, after leaving 
his money, he had staked his little daughter Eloise against the sums he 
had already lost — that he had lost the game, and was to meet the prison- 
er — myself — near the spot where his body had been found, and where he 
was to deliver up the child to her. She, Ann Bivel had endeavored to 
persuade him not to do anything of the sort, and he had solemnly promised 
her that he would not 

“Instead of keeping this promise, he had taken his daughter away on 
the day appointed, and the next known of him was the finding of his 
corpse in the manner already described. The child was gone, nor could 
any trace be found of her, though the most streunous exertions had been 


54 


THE CORAL LADY. 


made for that purpose. She wound up her evidence by passionately ap- 
pealing to me, to at least to restore to her arms her dear daughter, Eloise. 

“The heartless piece of acting threw me intoi a fury; and in spite of 
judges and the rest, I poured forth a withering invective giving my whole 
history from the beginning down to the present moment. 

“‘Madame,’ said my advocate, when I sank to ray seat with exhaust- 
ion. I am sorry for you, but I can do nothing now. You have ruined 
your case. 

“ ‘So be it, then I’ I exclaimed, ‘1 appeal to Heaven I I am innocent I 
I am innocent I’ 

“ The officers of the Saloon were examined finally to support part of the 
evidence of Ann Rivel, and then the case closed, and the verdict was 
being awaited, when suddenly the whole aspect of affairs was altered by 
the re-appearance of Lena Graef ; who, rushing into the room, flung her- 
self at the feet of the judge, exclaiming that she alone was guilty of the 
murder. She had been induced to commit the deed by her zeal to serve 
me, whom she knew to be so deeply wronged by Mr. Darnelle. Still the 
judge averred that none but the hand of a deeply injured wife could ever 
have inflicted such vengeance on a false husband. 

“The most astounded persons in Court by this unexpected occurrence 
were Ann Rivel and Doctor Lisle, a circumstance that caused me to think 
strangely. However I had not recovered frdm my surprise before I heard 
the verdict of ‘not guilty’ rendered to me. This freed me; but, alas I 
poor faithful Lena was now a prisoner in my place, and I was not allowed 
to even speak to her before she was hurried away I 

“Heavy hearted I returned to my hotel to spend the succeeding two 
days in studying over some means of relieving Lena from her frightful 
situation. I was firmly convinced of two things : first that Lena was en- 
tirely innocent of any crime whatever, and second that either Ann Ri- 
vel, or Dr. Lisle; or both of them had murdered Herbert Darnelle. So 
strongly was I convinced of this that I went to the magistrate and told 
him of my convictions. He said that he was convinced of the same fact, 
and had been ever since he had seen Ann Rivel’s manner in court. And 
he promised to aid me in any way in his power. Besides having Lena’s 
trial postponed, he would see that Ann Rivel and the Doctor were plac- 
ed under police surveillance. 

“The following morning I received word from the prison that during 
the night Lena the prisoner had died suddenly, from the effects of poison, 
which it was supposed, bad been adminstered to her in a cake that some 
stranger had taken to the gate and left for her, representing that she was 
a great friend of hers. 

‘That is some more of Ann Rivel’s hellish work!’ said I to mvself, 
and I at once determined to bring it home to her if I could. When the 
police went to ascertain something about Ann Rivel and her paramour, 


THE CORAL LADY. 


55 


they found that both had just sailed iu a vessel bound to Australia; and 
alas ! that they had a little girl with them. As there was no charge 
against them or sufficient foundation for one, the vessel could not be de- 
tained at any port. Thus these wretches, with the blood of two human 
beings on their hands had escaped. 

“When I heard it, I once more resolved on a journey of vengeance; 
this time to avenge my child Eloise, poor faithful Lena, and Herbert, 
whom 1 had already forgiven for what he had done to me. He had told 
me that he really loved me alone ; and this in my eyes covered his sin 
with a mantle of charity that I would not draw aside. My first duty was 
to see that Herbert and Lena were properly interred and suitable mon- 
uments erected above their resting places. This done, I set sail for that 
wild and far-off land, Australia, hoping to overtake the murderers and 
rescue Eloise from their clutches. 


.1 . . 

PARTIAL YENGEAKCE. 

“After a prosperous voyage I landed at Melbourne; and at once entered 
upon the chase with all the ardor of my ardent nature. It was but a short 
time before I had a clue to the whereabouts of the detestable pair. They 
had gone up along the coast toward Cape Howe. Thither I went as fast 
as possible, and finally was rewarded by learning that Doctor Lisle would 
most likely pass a hamlet in the mountains before dark, that I would 
reach in the afternoon. Ann Rivel had gone on a day or two earlier by 
another route to Cape Howe. 

“Before proceeding, I would say that when I landed in Australia, and 
found out the roughness of the country and its inhabitants, I donned the 
apparel of a man, and travelled with a rifle slung at my back, and a pair 
of pistols and a knife stuck in my belt. 

“By an extra effort I got to the hamlet at noon; and ascertained that 
the Doctor had not reached there yeti From the direction he was coming 
I knew the exact road he must take. For a short distance this road ran 
along on the ledge of a precipice where there was not more than room 
enough for one person to ride along at a time. Close by this place and 
in the face of the precipice above the way were several deep fissures. In 
one of these I took my position to await the appearance of my intended 
victim. 

“The sun set, but was immediately replaced by the moon, which in 
Australia is almost as bright, and soon after I saw two horsemen coming 
along the precipitous ledge. The first was a stranger, the other was 
Doctor Lisle. J drew a pistol, examined the cap, and calmly waited till 
the doomed and guilty wretch was directly opposite to me — so close in- 


56 


THE CORAL LADY. 


deed that I could almost touch him with my hand. The other man had 
passed without seeing me. There was a report, a groaning scream, and 
the next moment man and horse went over the cliff into the abyss below. 
The Doctor’s companion never stopped even to look behind him; but hur- 
ried on, doubtless praying that no one would shoot at him. 

“‘^^ow then for her P said I to myself, repeating the words that Ann 
Xlivel had written on the paper, which she and her vile paramour had 
pinned with my dagger to the breast of poor, dead Herbert; to cast sus- 
picion on me as his murderess. I returned to the hamlet without being 
detected, although there was a great commotion concerning the mysteri- 
ous deed. I had not the slightest compunction about the act; for I con- 
sidered it one proper in every respect to do. 

“My next step was to push on to Cape Howe; but, upon arriving there, 

I found that Ann Rivel had left there two days previously to return to 
Melbourne. Back to Melbourne I hastened, only to find, however, that 
my intended prey had set sail but' a few hours before my arrival. I now 
became convinced that Ann Rivel, by some means or other, had learned of 
my pursuit of her, and Would use her best endeavors to throw me off the 
trail. I knew her also- to be a deep, cunning, and most wickedly unscru- 
pulous woman. Yet never for an instant did my determination falter. A 
ship was not to start for England for two weeks yet, and as you may 
suppose I chafed during this delay like a chained tiger. But at last I was 
on the ocean on my way to avenge my wrongs and the wrongs of Her- 
bert Darnelle and his and my Eloise. 

“We had a rapid and prosperous voyage till we neared the island of 
Sumatra, when . suddenly there sprung up a most fearful storm. AYe 
had a noble ship, a good Captain and an excellent crew ; and, for a long 
time, our Clipper rode the tempest in splendid style. But finally the sea 
became so violent as to strain her timbers badly, and she sprung aleak. 
At once the pumps were manned, and every eflect was made to clear the 
hold; all to no effect, however. Our situation was now desperate; our 
masts had all gone overboard, the water was gaining every moment, and 
we knew we were driving toward the shore. 

“At midnight the captain ordered distress signals to be made. Red 
rockets went screeching through the darkness, followed by the lurid flash 
and dull roar of the minute gun. Rocket and gun, however, were alike 
helpless to bring us aid, and toward morning the captain announced 
that all had been done that could be, and we must now trust to God. 

“Then followed a frightful scene ; and one that it would be impossible 
for me to describe. Amid the screams, groans and weeping of the pas- 
sengers burst upon us the horrible roar of the breakers ahead. The scene 
was soon closed by our ship dashing furiously on the rocks; where, in a 
very short time, she went to pieces, leaving everybod}" struggling in the 
angry embrace of the billows. By the light of da\^ that was just dawn- 
ing, I could see several natives on the beach, watching us. 



In the moonlight I saw the two horsemen coming along the narrow ledge 
of the precipice, and I made ready for them. 







t 











•• 



I 


S 




THE CORAL LADY. 


59 


“I had resolved to go down the moment I should be thrown into the 
water, and thus end my sufferings quickly. But when I was in the sea, 
I seemed to suddenly become animated with a strong desire to live. 
Thus impelled, I seized hold of a broken plank, and began to buffet the 
waves with might and main; though all round me strwig men sank groan- 
ing to their wateiy graves. Strange as it may seem to you, I reached 
the shore the sole survivor of that ship load of human beings. 

“At first the natives, who had now increased to several hundred in 
number, appeared afraid of me, deeming me as charmed to thus escape 
when all had perished. Yet they took good care that I did not go away; 
and some twenty of them surrounding me as a sort of guard of honor I 
suppose, two of them bore me more than a mile to the palace of the King, 
to whom, with many formalities they presented me. I remained in the 
King’s household about a week; being kept more like a state prisoner 
than anything else, and was then made to understand that the King had 
given me as a wife to Faralang, a favorite officer of his, in acknowledge- 
ment of faithful services. 

“There was no escape; and I was obliged to submit. I was married 
to the bronze-faced Faralang, a noble looking man, who soon proved hina- 
self the fondest and best of husbands. My pale face, though at first a 
curiosity, soon became distasteful to Faralang, and also to his friends, 
and in order to please at least him ; I sought the services of an old Doc- 
tor on the island, who, by the application of some mysterious unguent, 
changed my complexion to what you now behold it, a deep, golden bronze. 

“A very short time after this, Faralang, while out hunting tigers, was 
injured fatally ; though he lingered nearly three weeks after receiving 
the hurts. I attended him faithfully during his illness, and as a fitting 
manifestation of his love he ordered, that, with the consent of the King, 
I should be allowed to leave the island and go abroad in search of my 
enemy, Ann Rivel — only exacting the promise on my part that I would re- 
turn to Sumatra as soon as possible. This I of course acceeded to; for 
there, in that lovely clime, I learned to love the noblest and best of men. 
Not, though, with that fervid and imperishable intensity with which I 
had idolized Herbert! Ah, no! for Herbert’s memory was laid away in 
mv heart of hearts, never to be effaced by anything else. On his behalf 
and on that of his child, had 1 set forth on my mission of vengeance; and 
though rny shipwreck and subsequent stay on the island of Sumatra with 
the events following, had hindered the fulfilment of my vow, they did 
not destrov it; but on the contrary, made it more binding on me by very 
reason of the delay. Now, therefore, that I was free, 1 felt like the 
freshly unleashed hound, and once more started on the chase for justice 
and vengeance. 

“Of course, after the length of time that had passed since I first sailed 
for England from Australia, all trace was lost of Ann Rivel. But hope 


60 


THE CORAL LADY. 


was as buoyant as ever within me, and in the first vessel that touched at 
Sumatra I set out for England attended by four female servants and two 
men servants — those who are now with me. Fortune favored me, and 
within three weeks after I landed, I succeeded in finding out that my 
enemy ; or at least a woman answering her description, with a little girl 
bad about the time corresponding with that at which she should have 
arrived in England, gone directly to an obscure village, Alnwyck, North- 
umberland County. She had acted strangely, as though in dread of 
.being pursued. 

“ ‘Heaven grant that I may find her!’ I prayed as I took the first train 
for Alnwyck. Though I invariably rode in the fastest trains, I seemed 
to move far too slowly. At length my destination was reached, however, 
and with eager expectations I questioned the landlady of the Red Lion 
Inn, a short, rubicund old dame, who was like a chronicle with all the 
events that had transpired in Alnwyck for the past forty years stored 
away in her memory. 

“ ‘La bless your ‘‘ighness,’ said she, when I inquired about the strang- 
er, ‘didn't she come ‘ere to the Red Lion, as the h'only respectable h‘es- 
tablishmenf — h'entertainment fur man and beast — an’ didn’t she call me 
h’up into ’er room, and caution me that if a tall, dark lady ‘appened to 
h’arrive in Alnwyck, and enquire for a blue-eyes, light-'aired lady — 
which wuz ‘erself — and a black-eyes, black-aired little girl — which wuz 
the child as she ‘ad with ‘er, I wuz to keep mum? An’ didn’t she slip 
seven suv'rins into my ‘and, an’ say: ‘Now, Mrs. Lester, that’s in ad- 
wance ; you’ll be careful will you ? ‘An‘didn‘t 1, seein’ the wicked leer 
she give me — though she wuz as pretty as a rose — h‘assert my British 
dignity, an’ tell ‘er that bribery an’ currupshun might be werry well for 
them Parliament men but not for me. An’ didn’t she clear ‘erself h,out 
three days after without sayin’ a word. An’ didn’t I ‘ave my misgivin’s 
h’about ‘er ; that she wuz a wretch an’ wuz a runnin’ h‘off with sum ‘uu 
h'elses child? which ‘aving done, h‘I took good care that my man, Toby, 
who wuz a goin’ down to Lunnun, should follow ‘er, an’ just see where 
she went to, in Lunnun ; fur I knowd she’d go straight down to Lunnun; 
because h‘all them kind ©‘folk’s sure to go to Lunnun, you know, your 
‘ighness’. 

“ ‘Where did she go then?’ I exclaimed. 

“‘She go’d straight to the Dover Rail’ud iToffice, your ‘ighness, an’ 
there she got a ticket clear across to Calais on the French Coast.’ 

“ ‘And there’ said I, ‘your man, Toby, lost all further traces of her.’ 

“‘La, yis, 3mur ‘ighness! h’of course, Toby — who ‘ates France as bad 
as water in ‘is beer— couldn’t go h'after ‘er h‘any further.’ 

“I immediately ended my conversation with the honest old dame, and 
paying her bill liberally, T received her sincere blessing, as, one hour later 
I bade the Red Lion adieu. As fast as steam could carry me I was in 


THE CORAL LALY 


61 


Paris. Upon dilli^cnt inquiries I found that, after landing at Calais, Aim 
Rivel had made her way to an isolated hamlet or village in the middle of 
the province of Burgundy. Thither 1 wended my way, though much 
more slowly than hitherto; as I was obliged to leave the regular road 
after reaching the borders of the province. Such was the shrewdness of 
the wicked woman of whom I was in pursuit thatl was in constant dread 
she would, b}’" some means or other, ascertain my approach, notwithstand- 
ing the alteration of my appearance. Thus taking every precaution 
against discovery, I advanced till the peaked roofs of the cottages of Allane 
came in sight. It was a lovely spot as I saw it there nestled down in a 
little vale and covered with the deep shadows of the mountains that stood 
like a rugged wall between Allane and the setting sun. 

“By the time I descended the mountain side it was evening in the 
hamlet. Still I found no difficulty in reaching the humble tavern of the 
place, where the landlord and his whole family nearly set me beside my- 
self with their attentions. 

“This was invariably the danger I encountered in those inland towns 
and villages; where the arrival of a stranger, most especially of one com- 
ing from a large city like London or Paris, is instantly heralded not only 
throughout the village, but, I might truly say, for miles around it. I en- 
deavored to obviate the danger Attending this fact on my reaching Allane. 
I summoned the host and announcing to him that I had business of im- 
portance in Allane and wished to ask him a few questions alone, and 
must be insured that our conversation would not bo overheard. This, 
with all the grimaces of a monkey, he promised should be exactly as ac- 
corded with my wishes. . 

“I then carefully questioned him concerning the arrival of Ann Rivel 
in Allane. At first he pleaded utter ignorance of any such event ; but 
when I began to refresh his memory a little, and he found that I was in 
terrible earnest, he suddenly remembered all aboutit. 

“ ‘Where does this woman live now?’ asked I. 

“ ‘Up on a gentle slope of the mountain as you go out to the little cha- 
pel, Madame,’ he replied, about a quarter of a mile to the Southward of 
this village.’ 

“ ‘Does she ever travel away from this place ?’ I inquired further. 

“ ‘Not often, Madame. Once in a long time she may do so.’ 

“I then minutely questioned my obseqeous host as to the approach to 
the house, and other important points. Having ascertained all I desired to 
know, I gave my informant a Tjouis d’or, with the remark that he should 
be still better rewarded, provided no one, either in the village, or in his 
own house, learned of what we had been conversing. He swore, by all 
the Saints in the Calendar, that our conversation should be kept perfectly 
sacred. 

“The following morning I mounted a pony of my host’s and rode casn- 


62 


THE CORAL LADY. 


ally in the direction of the cottage. Oh, how my heart throbbed, as I 
neared the spot. 'Now then for her P I once more said to myself; and 
the dreadful past came flitting before my eyes with its every scene and 
event distinctly pictured; and yet it came and went as might a flash of 
lightning. 

“Presently, as I rose over a sharp, rocky ridge I beheld the cottage. 
But it seemed as though it were deserted ; and I found it difficult to re- 
press a pang of apprehension as I rode forward to its pretty porch. I 
was about to knock, when a peasant girl, who appeared to have been 
waiting for the purpose, approached from a neighboring cottage, and 
placed a sealed letter in my hand. 

“My emotion was so strong that I could hardly open the missive. 1 
did so, however, and read : 

“ ‘Eloise de Launey : 

“It is useless for you to pursue me. 
You can never overtake me. I know your purpose, and I should .know 
you through any disguise. I learned of your coming two days ago, and 
while you have been hastening hither, I have been moving with equal ra- 
pidity in the opposite direction. Eloise and I will give you a long chase 
of it. Really I, myself, am beginning to enjoy it very much as the only 
excitement of my life. You have your match. Someday, if we ever 
meet face to face, I will explain something to you of which you are now 
ignorant. Till then. Adieu : Ann Rivel. 

“I could have sunk into the earth with vexation at being thus baffled. 
Yet on somewhat recovering my equanimity, I felt more determined than 
ever I did before to hunt down this wicked creature, and let her feel the 
weight of an injured woman’s vengeance. 

“But since then I have never yet been able to find a single trace of her, 
though I have spared neither money nor pains to obtain one. Yet I still 
hope I hope? ah, yes! the only hope that keeps me alive is, that some 
day I may yet find ni}' darling child 1 my Eloise !” 

The coral lady, thus ending her narrative, took up her guzla, and 
sang, like one in a dream, the same sweet, touching sorrowful melodies 
as before. She seemed then to become extremely despondent, and as it 
was getting late, I rose to take ray departure ; thanking her for her con- 
fidence in narrating to me her life, and asking her if she had any objection 
to my publishing it when I should return home to America. She assured 
me she had not, if such was my pleasure. She also informed me, that, 
as the performance of a vow would prevent her holding any communica- 
tion with any one for a week to come, and as I was to sail for home two 
days hence, we would perhaps never meet again. “But,” said she: “if I 
ever find Eloise, I will write to you, for that alone will complete ray 
narrative.” 

We parted, after my lovely and eccentric hostess had pressed upon me 
several costly presents; she to continue her search for her little'^Eloise, 
and I to wonder — as I have no doubt the reader will do — at the singular 
and romantic History of this strangest of women— the coral lady. 








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This is the only likeniss ever published of the mysterious Coral 
Lady ; and was engraved from an Ivory Miniature obtained by Mrs. 
Southworth, the authoress. 


THE CORAL LADY. 


65 


THE LOST TRAIL FOUND. 

To The Publisher. 

Dear Sir : 

You will recollect that, when I placed in 
your hands the narrative of The Mysterious Coral Lady, I told you of 
her promise to write to me if she ever found her little daughter, Eloise ; 
whom she evidently idolized. I never expected to hear of her again ; but 
what was my astonishment to receive only yesterday a packet post-marked 
Paris. It was thick, and sealed with a seal having the design of a sprig 
of red coral. 

As I cut open the envelope with my scissors, I was consumed with 
excited emotions, and ere I took out the tripple folded sheets of writing, 
I asked myself fifty questions ; for I well knew who the manuscript came 
from. I might fill many quires of paper telling you all about the contents 
of the packet. But as it would not be half as good — after all my efforts — 
as the narrative itself, I have made a strict and correct copy thereof, and 
forward it to you to add to the new edition of The Coral Lady Book. It 
is far more powerful than any previous portion of the narrative, and com- 
pletes the latter. ^ 

Yours Respectfully: 

The Authoress. 


My Dear Friend, Mrs. Southworth: 

When You and I parted from 
from each other in Paris, I thought that I should not only never see yonr 
kindly face again in this life ; but also that most likely I should never 
have the opportunity of writing to you as I had promised, for I felt 
nearly certain at that time that Fate had decreed me non-success in my 
pursuit of Ann Rivel. But for once the Goddess relented, and one of the 
results is that I am now penning this to you; and the other you will as- 
certain on reading what I send you 

Affectionately Yours: 

Eloise de Launey. 

As you are already aware, when I conversed with you in Paris I had 
lost all trace for some time of Ann Rivel, the vile creature who had ruined 
my happiness for all time to come. Throughout the whole city of Paris 
high and low, in all kinds of n^hborhoods I sent detectives, and often 
went myself in disguise with the object of obtaining some clue that might 
4 


66 


THE CORAL LADY. 


lead to the detection of the whereabouts of my intended victim. Yet, day 
after day, and night after night, the same result was always reached, and 
the same monotonous reports made — 

“Nothing yet! nothing yet!” 

One night about one o’clock T was awakened suddenly as by the pres- 
ence of some one close by my couch. I knew such a thing was impossi- 
ble for I was surrounded by screens, and my servants would no more 
think of intruding upon my privacy, without being summoned by me, 
than they would of ascending to the moon ; for they knew that I always 
kept a loaded pistol ready for instant use. 

For sometime I laid awake oppressed with that singular sensation of 
some one being close to me and yet seeing no one, and finally so disagree- 
able did this become, that I was obliged to get up. I walked about and 
read and then played and sang, and thinking I had dissipated the sensa- 
tion. I once more threw myself on my couch and soon fell asleep. 
Again, however, I was once more aroused in the same mysterious 
manner. And as I opened my eyes the dim shadow of Herbert Darnelle 
flitted past me and was gone, as all shadows go. It did not look at me ; 
it did not speak to me ; it merely passed by, and was no doubt an im- 
pression of the mind; for 1 had, just previously to going asleep the second 
time, been thinking about him. 

Suddenly the thought suggested itself to me to go back to the hamlet 
of Allane in Burgundy, and there I would hear of Ann Rivel. This 
thought seemed to me to be in some way connected with that vague sha- 
dow, that bodiless form of Herbert Darnelle, which had come and gone as 
the light cloud flies swiftly across the face of the sun. This I argued to 
myself was another of those impressions made by the mind on itself, and 
whmh, had I been more sensitive, I should have ascribed to supernatural 
causes. Still, nevertheless, the impression remained ; nay ; it grew 
stronger and stronger. Finally, such a hold did it take on me that I re- 
solved to go back to Allane. I argued to myself that, perhaps during the 
second visit I might find some means of learning something that I had 
missed during the previous visit. No sooner did I come to this resolu- 
tion than I was on my way to the romantic hamlet among the mountains 
of Burgundy, Allane. 

Instead of travelling this time as I had done before ; namely, by rail- 
road, I hired relays of light, swift coaches, each drawn by four splendid 
horses. My orders were to place me in Allane as quickly as it could be 
done; and if fifty horses were killed, I would pay for them. 

The result was that I reached my destination almost as speedily as by 
steam, and without the possibility of any person anticipating my arrival. 
The host of the little inn at Allane was Binder struck at seeing me again; 
for he had supposed I would never retui^ I had not intended to stop at 
his inn, but to go straight to the cottage which had been inhabited by 


THE CORAL LADY, 


6t 

Ann Rivel. But as it turned out, I was obliged to pa^s the inn on my 
road, and of course you, as a traveler, will understand the utter impossi- 
bility of passing a country inn without being seen by the omni-present 
landlord, and landlady, and all the rest about the establishment. 

Out flew Monsieur Fallon, his wife, children and servants. I was 
completely surrounded and so plied with congratulations and requests to 
come in and take full possession of the inn, that I was forced to surrender 
at last. 

‘‘Madame,” said Monsieur, as he escorted me to the best chamber his 
domicile afforded ; “I have something to impart to you, privately.” 

I was at once eager to listen, and after closing the door Monsieur Fallon 
began : 

“Madame ; do you not remember, last time you were here, that the 
person you were in pursuit of, Ann Rivel, made her flight just before 
you went to her cottage ?” 

“Yes I do. Monsieur Fallon, very distinctly. What news have you 
of her? Any? Has she returned? Is she still there? Has she the little 
girl with her yet ?” 

These interrogatives I put to Monsieur Fallon with I suppose rather 
bewildering rapidity; for, passing his hand several times over his fore- 
head, he begged that I would let him answer one at a time. 

“Tell me all; and do it quickly 1” w^as my rejoinder; at which the 
fussey little host began : 

“You had been left Allane about a fortnight only; when, one morning 
by a little after sunrise, we beheld Madame Rivel coming along the 
road ” 

“Had she the girl with her ?” I interrupted, laying my hand on Mon- 
sieur Fallon’s arm. 

“No, Madame, she had not.” 

“Alas !” I cried, “poor little Eloise I She was the one j. really wanted I 
I am her mother! But, proceed! proceed!,” 

“Of course,” resumed my host, “we were all much surprised to behold 
Madame Rivel come back ; and still more so when she announced to 
us that she had returned to stay. Two days after that she went away 
again, and again returned, this time bringingthe little girl with her ” 

“Oh, thank God I then both are still here !” exclaimed I, again inter- 
rupting Monsieur Fallon. 

“I do not think they are, Madame. In fact I know they are not. For 
only yesterday Madame Rivel, after all her assurances that she intended 
to remain here permanently, suddenly took her departure. The little 
girl was with her, and she never stopped but went away as fast as she 
could.” ^ 

“Did she say whither she was going ?” asked I. 

“No, Madame; but, as I saw her leaving with so much precipitation, 
it occurred to me that most likely you were approaching our little village 


68 


THE CORAL LADY. 


in pursuit of her again. I had cause to remember you gratefully, and I 
sent Jacques, my son, to follow Madame Rivel for two or three days, sup- 
plying him with money for all his expenses.” 

“Oh! thanks! thanks, my shrewd friend I” I exclaimed; “both your 
son and yourself shall be amply remunerated ! He has not returned I 
suppose ?” 

“J^ot yet, Madame. He will not be back for two days, unless circum- 
stances induce him to alter the plan I laid out for him. And I assure 
you, Madame, Jacques is no fool; and if Madame Rivel misleads him I 
will givfe her full credit.” 

I was obliged to remain at Allane and await the return of Jacques 
Fallon with what good or ill news he might have to bring me. That 
day passed drearily enough, though all was bright and serene in the little 
valley. In the same manner passed the succeeding day. And the third 
one bade fair to be like the other two. You could not imagine my anxiety 
and distress as I sat by my chamber window, watching the path by 
which Jacques must come, as it wound its zigzaz way up the mountain's 
side. My eyes ached with gazing, and the shadows cast by the setting 
sun began to be deep and sombre over the vale of Allane. Still Jacques 
was unheard from. The sombre shadows became blended and deepened 
into one dark mantle, wrapping hamlet, mountain and forest in night ; 
and my aching eyes suffused with tears. There was a hope and a fear 
connected with Jacques thus overstaying the allotted time. The hope 
was, that, having got fairly on the track of Ann Rivel, and it continuing 
with promise of near success, he had kept on. The fear was, that, find- 
ing herself thus watched, the shrewd, wicked woman had drawn the 
lad into some bye way and perhaps silenced him forever, as she had once 
before silenced one far dearer to me than life— poor Herbert Darnelle. 

I mentioned my suspicions to Monsieur Fallon ; but, with a shrug of 
the shoulders, and a meaning twinkle of his grey eyes, he said : 

“Ah! Madame does Jacques injustice ! Jacques will give a good ac- 
count of himself! and I think his delay bodes good fortune ! Ha I ha! 

there is his horn now! The Marsellaise ! ha! ha! Madame! I told Jac- 
ques to give us the Marsellaise as he crossed the mountain’s crest, if he 
had good success. Good news, Madame ! Jacques is no fool ! Hark don’t 
you hear it ? — there ! now comes in the chorus !” 

The window was open ; but I heard nothing. Mine were unexperien- 
ced ears. I looked up where I knew the path must wind, and I saw through 
the night a spark of fire that moved like a star swinging back and forth. 

Monsieur Fallon looked also, and exclaimed in his ecstacy : 

“Hurrah! Madame! that’s Jacques, swinging his lantern! That’s a 
signal I told him to make in case the wind carried the sound of his horn 
away from our direction !” 


THE CORAL LADY 


69 


At this moment the sweet and powerful notes of Jacques’ French horn 
came down to my ears on the evening wind. The Marsellaise I Great 
Heaven I never had I heard that tumultuously thrilling melody under 
such exciting circumstances. My whole being trembled with excitement. 
I could hardly control myself. I strained ray head as far as possible out 
of the window with eye and ear intent. And once, I remember, shaking 
Monsieur Fallon to induce him to remain quiet about the merits of 
Jacques. 

Nearer and nearer came that swinging lantern of Jacques, and clearer 
and clearer became the notes of his well played horn, till finally the stal- 
wart lad, covered with dust, stood before me in my chamber ; while his 
father capered and pranced around him like one out of his senses. 

In a plain, straightforward manner, and with a peasant’s simplicity, 
Jacques narrated to myself and his father his adventures since the chase 
on which his father had sent him, commenced.* He had traced Ann Ri- 
vel from town to town, until reaching Besanqon, he had ascertained that 
she intended, after remaining there a short time, to go to Berne, in Swit- 
zerland, where she had several years previous purchased a cottage. He 
had evidently displayed much acuteness in his pursuit, nor did he quit it 
until he thought it safe to do so. The information he brought me was 
most valuable; and I not only thanked him; but gave him such a reward 
as made him stare with surprise. Nor did I forget his father who had 
so shrewdly sent his son Jacques on the pursuit, on the supposition that 
I would appear in Allane immediately after Ann Rivel left it. 


AGAIN IN PURSUIT. 

The uext morning by sun-rise I w^as far up the mountain side, making 
my way to Besancon with all possible speed, and praying with all possi- 
ble fervor that Ann Rivel might not resume her journey until she and I 
had met face to face. I had not travelled far before an accident happen- 
ed which came near ending my life. I was riding a mule that I had 
hired with a guide to take me across the mountains. We had come to a 
dangerous path on the mountain side, and a heavy rain having fallen, 
made it extremely slippery. The animal I rode had %ever performed 
the journey before, and consequently was not to be depended on. This 
I was in ignorance of, until we were approaching the dangerous place to 
which I have just referred; when my guide cautioned me to look out for 
any slipping or faltering of the animal, and instructed me vvhat to do in the 
occurrence of such an event. At any other time I should have promptly 
turned back; but not now. No! not if Satan himself had stood in my 


THE CORAL LADY* 


10 

pathway would I have taken one retrograde step. On we kept, and sure 
enough, when the animal I rode got to the dangerous portion of the route 
he began to lose confidence in himself, exactly as a human being 
might do. 

The further the brute advanced the more frightened did he become, and 
about the middle of a path that led through a dismal gorge, he lost his 
footing and slid down a steep declivity nearly a hundred and fifty feet. 
Here he caught on a ridge or narrow ledge, about six inches in width, 
which arrested his progress down the rest of the incline at least five 
hundred feet more. 

Jean, the guide, stopped his mule; and uncoiling a long, strong cord — 
that guides carry for just such accidents — he was preparing to throw it to 
me, when suddenly, from some unexplained cause, the brute I rode be- 
gan to rear and plunge. On a level plain this would have been sufficiently 
dangerous to the rider ; but midway down a mountain side, scarcely any- 
thing but a miracle could save any one. I thought of a desperate re- 
source ; and, drawing my poignard, I was in the very act of killing the 
beast. The point of the steel was aimed directly at the spinal cord, and 
another moment would have brought the mule down dead. 

At this juncture, however, his hoof broke away a portion of the ridge, 
and, as he struggled to save himself, he pitched me- off his back, and 
sent me whirling down the declivity like a shot. Death stared me in the 
face; but I did not lose my presence of mind. I clutched the poignard, 
and each time I rolled over, I tried to drive it into the ground. Twenty 
times at least did 1 make the effort before I succeeded. But finally I did 
succeed, and my headlong descent was stopped. 

I glanced upward, and there beheld the mule, where he had stood ; 
while at the top of the declivity I saw Jean, doing nothing more sensible 
than crossing himself and making other motions of despair. In fact it 
seemed to me as though he could not see me for some moments in spite 
of my repeated screams to attract his attention. 

The mule was still plunging and slipping, and, as I was in a direct 
line below him, I began to tremble lest he should come rolling down 
upon me and crush me to death. To avoid this peril I crept carefully 
in an oblique direction to a place of safety ; and again shouted to the 
guide. 

By this time that worthy had somewhat regained his composure, and 
at once began to descend towards where I was. This was a matter of 
the greatest risk, even for such an experienced mountaineer as Jean. But 
finally after great exertion and one or two ugly slips, he got the cord to 
me. Then commenced the great struggle to reach the path from which I 
had originally been thrown. The very thought of that frightful ascent 
makes me tremble. 

At last, through the favor of Providence, and with many a narrow es- 


THE CORAL LADY. 


n 


cape, Jean succeeded in assisting me to a firm footing once more on the 
path. So great was his fear at having been the cause of the accident, 
that he went down on his knees, begged my pardon, and prayed me 
that I would not ruin him by saying anything about the reason of the ac- 
cidenj, pleading his wife, children, and aged parents, who were depend- 
ent on his profits as a guide for their living. Though very angry at the 
fellow, I forgave him, and the journey was at once resumed, Jean walk- 
ing, and I riding on his mule, a throughly-safe and sure-footed animal, 
who, Jean averred, would carry me safe along a path though it be no 
wider than the back of a sword. Before starting again I insisted on Jean 
shooting the unfortunate mule that still stood far down the side of the 
mountain, as it would be impossible to save it, and cruel in the extreme 
to let it stand there till it starved. Besides, the poor brute, when it found 
us going, looked up, and uttered such a groaning sound of agony that it 
was extremely touching to hear. 

The rest of the journey was accomplished without any event occurring 
that was worthy of being recorded and I arrived in Besancon full of hope 
and fear — hope that I might overtake the woman who had caused me such 
^trouble and unhappiness, and fear that, as she had done previously, so 
now she might escape me. I felt rather meanly of myself, also,to think 
that she could escape from me always, and with so much apparent ease. 


ARRIVAL IN BESANCON. 

As I entered the lovely town of Besancon I met a peasant and his wife 
going to their work. I stopped them, and after some casual inquiries I 
asked : 

“Can you tell me, whether any strange men have come into Besancon 
within the last two weeks 

“Yes, Madame,’^ replied the woman, “there have been three come in 
that time. Two of them were workingmen looking for employment and 
the other was a gentleman who called himself a Nature man I think; and 
he was hunting up flowers and weeds and birds and bugs. The queerest 
thing I ever heard of.” 

“You mean, he called himself a Naturalist I” 

“Oh, yes, Madame, that was it.” 

“I suppose there were no women with either of the three men,” said I 
coming as gradually as possible to the point I wished to settle, and yet 
speaking in a half-indifferent tone of voice. 

“No, Madame, there were not. Them kind of men I dont think would 
care much about lugging women about with them.” 


THE CORAL LADY. 


t2 

The woman laughed boisterously at what she thought was very ludi- 
crous, and the man with a gaffaw, added : 

“No, indeed, lady, when a man^s after work he dont want no more 
load than his tools for a long tramp. And as to them Natural Chaps,, 
why they’re too crazy for anything but bugs and snails and herbs, and 
the likes.” 

I smiled at the simplicity of the two peasants ; but I had my object ; 
and, taking out my purse, I began to open it — thus taking Hamlet’s ad- 
vice to his actors — “to suit the action to the word, and the word to the 
action.” 

“Now,” said I, taking a couple of small gold pieces between my finger 
and thumb and just making them peep out edgeways, “have there been 
any strange ladies come into your beautiful town within two or three 
weeks ?” 

“Yes, Madame, there has 1 exclaimed the woman as she rivited her 
gaze on the gold pieces, the sight of which together with the idea that 
they were intended for her made her breathe quick and short with ex* 
cited longing, “yes Madame, there has. That is there’s only been one 
that I know of.” 

“Can you describe her ?” asked I. 

“Do you mean, can I tell you wLat she looked like ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh, yes, I can do that; for anybody that once got sight of her wouldn’t 
forget what she looked like. She was a little bit taller than you are, not 
quite so stout — though you are a nice size and not fat — ” 

“You mean, said I, helping the woman out, that she was rather thin.” 

“Yes, Madame, that’s what I ment; but I couldn’t get at it.” 

“Well, go on 1” said I, as the woman paused to took greedily at the 
gold pieces. 

“She was thin,” she resumed, “and her face was pale, but just as 
beautiful as any painting. Her eyes were clear blue like a light sky in 
the morning, and the long lashes came down over them like fringes. She 
bad splendid hair and eye brows.” 

“Do you know what she called herself?” I asked, keeping outwardly 
calm, though the tempest began to rage within me, for I felt this was 
Ann Rivel. 

“No, Madame, I don’t know what her name was ; but I know what 
she called her little girl. It was Eloise, and a beautiful little thing she 
was. And ” 

The woman gave a start, and gazed at me as though she were struck 
by a sudden discovery. Then she finished her sentence with : 

“Why she looked just like you; only she was not a gold color like your 
face is. You’re that little girl’s mother 1 are you not?” 

Thus, with her woman’s intuitive preception, this ignorant peasant de- 


THE CORAL LADY. 


73 


vined the true state of the case. T once read a story of a miner who was 
at work in a copper mine that extended under a lake. An immense mass 
of earth fell behind him and buried him in a living tomb from which no 
friendly hand could rescue him. After some hours he became almost mad 
with thirst, and knowing that but a thin crust of earth was between him 
and the water of the lake above, he desperately seized his pick axe, and 
began to bring down huge lumps of ore and earth in the double hope of 
slaking his thirst, and rising to the surface of waves and swimming ashore. 

Presently the water began to trickle through ; but scarcely had the 
poor man thanked Providence for this, before the angry deluge burst 
through with horrible noise and violence, and dashed him into a mangled 
corpse. 

1 felt much like that man for the discovery had burst in upon me from 
that poor peasant woman’s mouth like the deluge which had destroyed 
him. 1 was completely nonplussed ; but suddenly I thought : “Why 
not make a friend of this woman ? She will serve me for gold if not for 
any other reason.” With this resolution I again addressed her : 

“Yes, I am that little girl’s mother. That woman stole her from me 
and I am in pursuit of her. Perhaps you are a mother yourself. If 
you will help me to accomplish my object I will give you gold. Do you 
see it? I will give you more than you ever had in all your life.” 

“Madame,” said the woman, “if it was only the gold, though Pierre 
and myself are wretchedly poor, I would tell you no. But as it would be 
in a good cause I will serve you any way I can, and so will Pierre here if 
you will pay us as much wages a day as we can now make at our work.” 

“How much is that ?” I asked. 

“Forty Sous, Madame.” (about 35 cents Editor.) 

“Forty Sous I” exclaimed I, in astonishment at such a meagre sum, 
“ves I will give you each five francs a day.” 

"“Ah I Heaven bless you, Lady I” ejaculated Pierre the husband, “why 
that will enable us to give both our son and daughter a handsome start 
in life.” 

“Serve me well and faithfully,” replied I, and your son and daughter 
shall both have an outfit such as no peasant in the region ever had be- 
fore. 

The woman burst into tears of joy at this, and Pierre could not restrain 
himself from embracing his wife on the spot. Till that moment I never 
knew how happy one could be by making others happy. Upon further 
conversing, I learned that the woman, Christine, had been born and 
raised within a few miles of Berne, and had many friends and relatives 
there. 

1 now Jelt a sudden impression come on me that this time 1 would be 
successful ; that the fugitive could no longer elude me ; and that I would 
recover my child, Eloise. I at once engaged the two peasants, Christine 
and her husband, and turning back with me they entered the town of 
Besancon. 


74 


THE CORAL LADY. 


•.t 


HUNTED DOWN AT LAST. 

I now felt renewed vigor in the chase, and proceeded to lay my plans as 
a general might do who appreciated the difficulty of the coming battle, 
and yet was sure of victory. To avoid as much as possible any excite- 
ment that my arrival might make, I went directly to the cottage, or 
rather hut, of my peasant friends, where I found the son and daughter 
one twenty and the other seventeen. Bright, intelligent and handsome, 
their humble parents might well be proud of them ; and when they were 
told my intentions toward them their happiness was indeed a happy sight 
to see. Father, mother and both children at once commenced the search 
for me, and within a few hours learned that the strange lady with the 
little girl had remained only one day in the town and had then departed 
for Berne in Switzerland. 

This was what I had really expected to hear; and I was therefore pre- 
pared with my plan. I sent the Saches, father, mother, son and daugh- 
ter, instantly to Berne with instructions to ascertain the exact locality in 
which Ann Rivel had settled, and then to keep a strict watch on her 
movements until I arrived. The reason I did this was that each time be- 
fore that I had gone directly to a place where she was, she had ascer- 
tained my approach by some means or other. But I had now found as- 
sistants on whom I felt I could depend, and so I remained in Besancon 
three days after their departure, in order to give them time to obtain the 
information desired. It was exceedingly trying to my patience thus to 
wait, but I controlled myself, and did not start for Berne until the day 
and hour had I fixed upon. Then, however, I travelled at the utmost speed 
that I could, and arrived in Berne in good season. 

My friends were impatiently awaiting my coming. 

“Well, Christine,” said I as I alighted from the conveyance at the 
spot, and met the faithful peasant woman, “what news have you ? good 
or bad ?” 

“We have found out the woman, Madame, or at least where she lived. 
But she is very sick. They say she is dying.” 

“And the little girl ?” I inquired. 

“She is in the house with her.” 

“It is well. Take me to the house at once,” rejoined I, a terrible de- 
termination coming over me. 

“The cottage is not in the city, Madame, but in a sequestered spot 
about two miles and a half to the Northward of it. The road also is very 


THE CORAL LADY. 


^5 


difficult. Do not think me too bold, Madame, but I would advise you 
to leave it till tomorrow morning as it is now so close on to night.” 

Upon thinking over this friendly advice, I resolved to follow it ; not 
failing to remember that it was most likely my headlong haste that had 
so often before given Ann Rivel a warning of ray approach. 

That night was a long and anxious one to me, and sleep was a strang- 
er to my eyes during its dreary passage. By day break the next morn- 
ing, I was on the road with Pierre and Christine to the house where my 
enemy lay sick — where they said she was dying — where, for the first 
time since the night that Eloise was torn from my enclasping arms in 
Kew Orleans, I would set my eyes on the darling again* 

We found the road fully as difficult, if not more so than Christine had 
described it, and we were several hours in coming to the cottage of Ann 
Rivel. It, was hidden down in a romantic little dell, and so buried in 
sweet flowering vines and graceful trees that I should certainly have 
passed by without seeing.it, had not Pierre said: 

'‘There Lady, there is the place right down there off the road.” 

I looked and saw the smoke curling peacefully out above the chimney, 
and such was the effect upon me, that I was obliged to sit down on a 
moss covered rock near by to regain my composure. This did not con- 
sume much time, however, and ordering my two peasant friends to re- 
main where they were, and await my. return, or else my signal, I des- 
cended to the cottage, and knocked at the door. The summons was not 
answered, and so I boldly walked in. 

then for her I whispered to myself, drawing my poignard — 
the one that had been stolen from me — that had been driven into the 
heart of poor Herbert Darnelle — and the one that I now intended to plant 
in the heart of her, who I felt fully assured had been his foul murderess. 
I had taken but a few steps, however, when I was confronted by a rough 
ill-visaged old woman, who demanded to know what I wanted; and why 
I had entered without waiting to be admitted. 

“Silence, hag I” I exclaimed, pushing her back, “I wish to see your 
mistress, Ann Rivel. Where is she ? She shall not escape me this 
time !” 

A scream, as of some one in rage or agony, rung upon my ears at this 
moment. It came from a room on the right, between which and me 
stood the old woman. Seizing the latter, I hurled her from before me, 
and, at a few steps, stood in the presence of my enemy, Ann Rivel. It 
was her chamber, and, merciful Heaven! there she lay on her couch dy~ 
ing ! I had hitherto disbelieved the report of her dying, as a story, set 
afloat by herself for some dark purpose of her own. But I could not 
doubt that haggard face, those cheeks, hollow, and white as marble; 
those eyes, brilliantly glassv, and the sweat of near dissolution standing on 
her forehead in beads. 


THE CORAL LADY. 


re 

“You have come at last I and disguised I” exclaimed Ann Rivel, glar- 
ing at me like a tigress, and endeavoring to rise to a sitting posture, but 
sinking back on one elbow. 

“Yes,” replied I, “I am here at last, nor do I intend to leave until you 
have made me reparation in some way for what you have done. I de- 
termined you should not become aware of my pursuit this time until I 
stood before you as I do now !” 

“Hal hal” laughed the expiring woman, “I knew it last night, and 
had I not been dying then, 1 would have slipped you again. But there 
is no need of that now, the tragedy is about to end, and in a way that 
your little dream it will. Before I die — provided you do not stab me, as 
I suppose you intended, with that poignard — which I recognise as the one 
I once plunged into the heart of Herbert Darnelle — I wish to say a few 
words to you.” 

The frightful sangfroid of the wretch almost stunned me, and lower- 
ing the point of my poignard, I simply replied : 

“Go on.” 

“I will be brief,” said Ann Rivel ; “for my life is now mumbered by min- 
utes. When I lived in New Orleans, your father, in conjunction with 
Herbert Darnelle, ruined my father in business by refusing a certain fa- 
vor the latter asked for. The result was, that from affluence, my mother 
and I were reduced almost to beggary. She broke her heart and died 
soon after. I lived, and resolved to revenge myself on Herbert Darnelle 
and you. You then loved each other fervently. The men of today are 
not Josephs, and I easily seduced Herbert — do you understand? I se- 
duced him and became his bauble — his mistress — in order that I might 
make him my victim. How well I succeeded you know. 

“But my task was not complete. He loved you dearly and your child, 
Eloise; and I resolved that both of you should also become my victims. 
Had it not been for that German servant girl of yours, Lena Graef, you 
would have perished at the hands of Law and Justice I ha ! hal 

“I knew your vengeful disposition, and knew that when you escaped 
you would pursue me. So, like the Matador, I fled ; always keeping close 
enough to you to find out exactly what you intended, and to keep you 
excited, and yet far enough from you to prevent you fulfilling your 
threats. How long I might have continued this I do not know. But I 
was suddenly stricken with the disease that has brought me to this bed 
of death. I immediately resolved to come to this cottage, and here await 
your arrival. I expected you before this, and even began to fear that you 
would not come in time. 

“You have come hither for revenge and to recover 3 mur child; while I 

have brought you here for revenge and to- Oh ! I die I pull that bell 

cord I pull I pull 1 or you will not hear all !” 

The face of the dying woman was horribly contorted. She gasped and 


THE CORAL LADY. 


n 


struggled ; and, almost unconsciously, I sprang close to her bed side and 
jerked the bell cord violently. A loud, whirring sound followed, as 
though by the act I had started some kind of machinery. 

“ Hal haP’ exclaimed Ann Rivel, in a weak, choking voice; “it is as I 
wished. Below this chamber is a vault, ia which there are a hundred 
pounds of gunpowder. With your ovrn hand you have started the clock- 
work, which, in about twenty seconds more, will explode the magazine. 
With your own handl and Eloise, your daughter, is locked in the vault I 
Adieu! Revenge is ” 

Ann Rivel fell back dead, without finishing her sentence; and, with 
the calmness of despair, I stood immoveable, aw’^aiting the dreadful death j 
she had so surely and diabolically prepared for me and my darling. 

The whirring sound ceased, however, and w^as followed by no explos- 
ion, and my. frigid despair instantly gave way to more active ideas. I 
rushed swiftly from the chamber, and found the old hag of a servant rock- 
ing herself over the kitchen fire. 

“Woman !” I cried wildly, seizing her and holding a revolver at her 
head. “Show me down into the vault where the child is! Quick! or I 
will shoot you.” 

“Aye ! that 1 will !” said she. “that woman must not know it though. 
But she can’t move out of bed. Come, and you will bless me! Come!” 

She hobbled on before me with surprising speed for one so old, and, 
opening a trap door, went down some heavy oaken steps. I followed her 
closely, and shuddered as I felt the cold, damp, musty air come up out 
of the opening. But this feeling w^as nothing- compared to that which 
thrilled me as I heard a child’s voice groaning. My heart almost stood 
still I that was the voice of my sweet darling Eloise. Long, long ago 
had it been since I last heard it. 

“Eloise ! Eloise ! my child ! my darling ! Where are you ? I am your 
mother I I am here to save you !” I cried. 

At this moment the light that the old woman carried was blown out 
by a strong current of air, and all was utter darkness. At this moment, 

too, I felt a little body pressed against my own, and two little arms flung 
around me, and a little voice, weak and trembling, saying ; “Mama ! Oh ! 
Mama !” 

Oh, Heaven ! could I, with this pen, trace on this paper my emotions 
at that instant, your very soul would thrill to read it, my dear friend. 
When, long before, Eloise had been torn from my embrace by the masked 
ruffians in New Orleans, she had wailed forth the self-same words that 
she now said: “Mama! Oh, Slama!” Then it had been in infantile des- 
pair; now it was in childish gladness. 

I sank on my knees, and covered the dear, unseen face with kisses ; 
and thanked Heaven, oh, how fervently ; and almost crushed the darling 
in my happy embraces. By this time the old wmman had relit her lamp, 
and bringing it close, enabfed one to see the lineaments of little Eloise, 
the intended victim of that wicked woman, Ann Rivel. 

“Come! come, my sweetest !” I exclaimed, catching Eloise up in my 
arms, let us be going. 

“Stop!” said the old wmman, I told you you would bless me. Come 
here and look.” 

I followed her to the spot in the vault where stood a barrel, open at the 

top, and a wire coming dowm through the floor overhead and passing 
down into the barrel. She stopped and thrusting her hand into the bar- 


t8 THE CORAL LADY. 

rel, brought forth a mass of gunpowder soaked with water. 

“You see that, ’ said she, “I was employed by that sick woman up- 
stairs. She imparted her plan to me. She brought this powder here in 
parcels herself, saying that a woman would come some day to take the 
girl away, and she intended to blow the house, the girl, woman, and 
herself to atoms. This wire passes up to her hand. For a week past 
she has forced me to take the girl down here each day, and lock her up. 
I was to escape when you came, on Madame Rivel giving the signal of 
a cough and a scream. But, while obeying her order to lock the girl in 
the vault, I could not find it in my heart to aid in her murder, so I 
quietly poured water amongst the powder, and rendered it useless. But 
you will say nothing to Madame Rivel, will you 

“She is dead I the fiend I” said I. 

“Thank God, then I” rejoined the old woman. “She has gone to her 
reckoning; and it will be a heavy one, I’m thinking.” 

My dear Friend, I need not prolong my narrative. I do not feel able to 
do so. I provided Pierre Sache and all his family well for the future, as 
I also did the old woman, to whom 1 owed not only my own life, but 
that of my child, Eloise. The authorities of Berne took charge of the 
body and effects of the wicked creature, Ann Rivel, and with a gladden- 
ed heart, I left Berne to take passage for the Island of Sumatra. I leave 
here day after tomorrow, and there in that lovely clime, reunited to my 
darling Eloise, I shall spend the rest of my days in peace and happiness. 
I shall still wear my corals to remind me always of the past; but I shall 
no longer practice with the pistol, as I have burned the waxen figure of 
Ann Rivel. Eloise is delighted to go with me, and as I write this, she 
has her arms round my neck, and is saying : “Dear Mama tell the lady in 
America that no one will ever take me away again from you, and tell her, 
God bless her.” I do so, my dear Friend, with delight. God bless you I 
Adieu ! for we shall not meet again on earth 

The publisher desires to say, that while the foregoing narrative is not 
from the pen of Mrs. E. D. E. N. South worth, the gifted authoress of so 
many well known works of fiction, its thrilling, heart-touching passages 
will be found equally affecting as any ever written by that lady. 

Among all the sensations that were ever made in Paris the subject of 
the foregoing narrative created the most marked. Her wealth, her beauty, 
her peculiar complexion, and the uniform peculiarity of her dress, together 
with her eccentricity, astonished even Pari^ans. 

When she took up her residence there, and appeared in public, many 
persons of all classes were desiriousof becoming acquainted with her, even 
if only for curiosity’s sake. But she repelled all alike ; in fact living like 
a hermit in the midst of all the fashionable frivolities around her. Of 
course she at once became the subject of the wildest and most improbable 
stories ; but the foregoing pages contain her true history from first to last 
and it is undoubtedly one of the most romantic and thrilling that has ever 
been known. 


THE END. 



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